


A Prince Worth Waiting For

by stellalights



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: "shiro" is not actually shiro, Falling In Love, M/M, Mentioned Shiro (Voltron), Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Tangled AU, character death but not really, kingdom dances and lantern ceremonies :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellalights/pseuds/stellalights
Summary: When Lance was born, he was given the gift of beautiful, silver hair that had the ability to make others young, healthy, and strong forever. That gift had to be protected, though, and Lance was forced to stay hidden from the outside world in a tower for eighteen years. But when wanted thief Shiro intrudes on his home, Lance seeks his aid in escaping once and for all to see what's outside his tower's walls.





	A Prince Worth Waiting For

**Author's Note:**

> **✩ Please read the tags and this note! ✩**
> 
>  
> 
> Okay hi everyone! So if you're familiar with me, you know that I am _not_ a writer but rather an artist, so this is all very very new to me. Nevertheless, I wanted to try my hand at it, and this became my own little personal project for the past few months. Why a Tangled AU? Well, I _love_ Tangled AUs with all my heart, but also I always see people place Keith as Rapunzel and Lance as Flynn which I love but disagree with, so maybe this fic will make you understand why I prefer the other way. I had a lot of fun doing it! There's really not much discrepancy from the movie, but I had fun playing around with some elements. It was a great learning experience, and I'd definitely like to write something again in the future!
> 
> Thank you to [Jessie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmints/pseuds/parchmints), [Moira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfells/pseuds/bleulily), and [Julie](https://twitter.com/rendevok) for betaing this fic for me! They were very very helpful and encouraging, and their support motivated me to work my best on this fic.
> 
> I also made art to promote this fic which you can check out [here!](http://stellalights.tumblr.com/post/182783973080/sooo-ive-been-working-on-a-little-side-project)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading this! Please let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments <3

There was once a legend about a comet that fell from space. It crashed into earth, and from that comet grew a majestic, magical flower with silver petals that emitted their own radiant light. That flower was said to possess quintessence, an everlasting energy that granted the ability to heal and strengthen those who harnessed it. Many sought out this rumored flower, but none were able to discover its whereabouts. So the legend remained a legend.

Until one day when the flower was found.

After countless years of searching, a woman by the name of Honerva had finally found the fabled flower. She exploited the flower’s abilities, keeping herself alive, healthy, and young. To do so, all she had to do was sing a specific song that would activate the flower’s special powers:

_Flower from above,_

_Shine as bright as day._

_Undo what’s been hurt._

_Come take this pain away._

 

_Mend what’s been broken._

_Fix without delay._

_Return what once was._

_Come take this pain away._ _  
_

 

_Take it away._

 

Suddenly, the flower was glowing a bright cyan. Honerva’s tan, wrinkled, rough skin soon became smooth, soft, and clear. Her white, dried out hair was replaced with luscious locks of dark, warm gray. Honerva had transformed into a younger version of herself. She could feel the quintessence course through her veins, this newfound infinite source of energy making her feel unstoppable— she was more alive than ever before. She kept the flower hidden, though, for that power was hers and hers alone. And it stayed that way for centuries.

Over time, a kingdom formed across the water known as Altea. The king and queen were beloved by all of their subjects and were constantly celebrated throughout the land. Crime in the kingdom was low, the citizens were prosperous, and soon enough, much to the kingdom’s delight, the royal family began.

The king and queen had four children, the eldest Veronica, followed by Luis, then Marco, then Rachel. The queen was about to have a fifth, the last to complete their family.

That is, until she fell gravely ill.

Every doctor in the kingdom had been brought to the queen’s bedside, but no matter how many examinations or medications she was given, her condition remained terminal. With no other option, people began looking for a miracle.

The castle guards searched across the outskirts of Altea for something that would help the queen. It was believed that certain parts of the forest contained species of plants and animals infused with magical properties. Through the trees, near cliffs, by the water, no land was left untouched. Yet by some luck, one of the guards had found it—the legendary flower. He called another guard over, and the two uprooted the plant and brought it back to the castle. They were unaware, though, that someone had watched them take it away.

The flower had saved not only the queen’s life but the life of her fifth child. Soon after recovering, the queen gave birth to a beautiful, healthy boy with golden brown skin, deep blue eyes, and gorgeous, silver hair.

The king and queen named him Lance.

As is traditional with every new addition to their family, the king and queen held a ceremony where they released lanterns into the sky, one to celebrate each royal child.

The family gathered around the balcony of the castle as Veronica lit the five lanterns. She handed one to Luis, Marco, Rachel, and the king and queen while keeping one for herself. The children looked to their parents, then the king and queen to each other, and then the two to the miracle resting in the queen’s arms. As they all nodded in agreement, Veronica released her lantern first. Luis followed, as did Marco and then Rachel. After Rachel’s lantern took flight, the king and queen looked down at Lance once more, unable to measure how truly grateful and blessed they were for having him come into their lives. Together, the king and queen released the final lantern into the sky. Lance watched in awe as the glowing cylinder danced in the wind with its four companions. Once the last lantern was high enough in the sky, the rest of the kingdom followed suit, releasing their own lanterns. Within minutes, the entire sky was a blanket of light. Any bits of dark blue and purple were replaced with bright oranges, yellows, and pinks.

The kingdom was ablaze with light and lively with music and laughter. The royal family celebrated, now complete and whole, along with their beloved subjects. Things were truly perfect.

At least for a little while.

After the celebration had ended, the citizens had resigned to their homes, and the king and queen put Lance to bed. But from the balcony window came a clicking noise. The door opened slowly, and through it came Honerva, hidden under a deep violet cloak. In her right hand, she held a pair of scissors. She quietly approached the newborn prince and guided the scissors towards his silver locks. She began to sing the incantation as the scissors got closer to Lance’s head. As she sang, the hair on Lance’s head produced the same cyan light the flower had previously made. When she snipped his hair, however, the strands lost their glow as well as their power and turned brunet.

Desperate to still keep this power for herself, Honerva grabbed the baby and escaped out the balcony door she had come through. This disturbance awoke Lance who began to cry. His cries alerted the king and queen who woke to see a broken-in door and an empty crib.

Everyone in the kingdom spent months searching for their lost prince, but none prevailed, for deep within the forest stood an abandoned, hidden tower where Honerva would raise the child for the rest of his days. Lance grew up in captivity, completely unaware of the family that awaited him in the kingdom. Honerva would have Lance sing for her every night, and she continued to stay young and healthy ( _Flower from above…_ ).

“Can I go outside the tower today, mother?” Lance would often ask.

“You know the rules, starlight. Under no circumstances may you leave this tower,” Honerva would often reply. “The world is full of dangerous people, and the only way I can protect you is if you stay here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.”

All of Honerva’s warnings could not deter Lance’s curiosity, however. Every night, right after Honerva had gone to sleep, Lance would sneak off to the tower’s window, the one entrance in and out of the entire structure, and watch the night sky. He’d daydream for hours on end of what was awaiting him outside, of the people, the animals, the food, the places. He had read all of the fairytales Honerva would bring him and wondered if any were true. He wondered how grass would feel on his feet. He wondered if he could climb a tree if he tried. He wondered what it was like to swim in the ocean. He wondered what it was like to dance with others to music. He wondered and wondered and wondered.

But the thing he wondered about the most were the five yellow lights that lit up in the distance every night on his birthday—those five lights that were always followed by a cluster of more that lit up the entire night sky. He wondered what they meant. He wondered if they were for anyone. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, they were for him. He wondered for years and years and years...

 

——

 

“Ah _ha!_ ” Lance exclaims as he intensely opens both doors to the tower’s window. He leans his head out the opening and analyzes the vicinity.

“Oh, darn,” Lance begins. “I was _certain_ that Blue was hiding out here, but I guess I’ll just have to look somewhere else!” Lance whistles and walks away from the window, placing his arms behind his back. His eyes, however, are still trained on the opening, and out of thin air, a small chameleon appears in front of a potted plant resting on the windowsill, changing from the yellow of the painted flower on the container to its natural green color. The tiny creature makes its way to the window, hesitating before stepping inside. Once it’s sure that the coast is clear, it begins to step inside—

“Gotcha!” Lance yells he hangs himself upside down from the hair he has tied to one of the tower’s beams above and comes face to face with the chameleon. The poor animal jumps back, startled by Lance’s sudden appearance. Lance flips himself right side up and lands on his feet, a smug look across his face.

“Alright, so that makes…” Lance begins counting on his fingers, “forty-seven wins for me and zero wins for you. Shall we go for round forty-eight? I have a good feeling about this one for you, buddy.” The chameleon stares unamused at Lance as he puts his hands on his hips. “Oh come on, Blue, I’m _sure_ you’ll win once.”

The chameleon—Blue—turns towards the outside world and gestures to the ground with her tail.

“No, no, no, Blue, you know I’m not allowed to leave the tower. It’s, like, literally, the one thing I’m not allowed to do,” Lance huffs. Blue makes an irritated noise at his response. Lance offers out his hand for her to crawl up on to sit on his shoulder. “Oh, stop whining. Come on, we have to start on the chores.”

Lance looks at the clock on the wall that reads 7 o’clock. He grabs all of his cleaning supplies and gets to work. Lance sweeps all the floors, dusts all the shelves, polishes all of the antiques and knickknacks, mops all the floors, washes and dries all the clothes, waxes all the floors, and sweeps the floors again just to be safe.

Lance looks at the clock on the wall. 7:15.

“Hoo boy,” Lance sighs. It was going to be another long day.

So, Lance continues to do what he does everyday. He chooses the book he’s reread the least amount of times and opens it up. After he’s done, he selects the next. And then another. And one more for good measure. He pulls out his guitar and plays a few of the dozen songs he’s taught himself. He bakes a batch of cookies. Then he bakes a pie. And then he bakes an entire cake because, why not? He knits himself some socks, a pair of gloves, and a scarf. He even knits a little beanie for Blue. He puts together a 100-piece puzzle in about twenty minutes. He plays a game of solitaire while he lets the face mask he’s wearing sit and rejuvenate his skin. He brushes and brushes and brushes and brushes all seventy feet of his shiny, silver hair.

He revisits one of the many star charts he has on his walls, and he continues to transfer his findings collected in his notebook to the tower’s interior. Once Lance finishes adding his new discoveries to the wall, he takes one look around the inside of the tower. Almost every wall is covered in paintings of the stars, of the sky, the moon, the sun. So many variations of blue dress the walls, from the bright cerulean of the daytime to the deep navy of the night. Years and years of studying and observing the sky decorated the tower.

At the center of all the murals was his favorite painting of all. There, painted above the fireplace, was a mural of those beautiful lights that Lance has only ever dreamed of seeing. They all stand clustered together, bright orange and yellow ovals against a dark blue sky, aside from five who rise noticeably higher than the rest.

Lance’s eighteenth birthday is tomorrow. And this year he plans on seeing those lights in person.

 

——

 

“Shiro, slow down, would you?” calls Ezor from atop the building behind the one he’s standing on. But he isn’t listening. He’s too anxious for this heist. He’s been ready for this operation for weeks. It was risky, but if he pulled this off then he could finally—

“Listen. You can’t run ahead of us. We need to stay together or else we’re going to be seen,” says Acxa strictly from behind him.

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Shiro replies, brushing her off. He waits for Ezor and Zethrid to join their side before continuing on. But when he looks up, he is blown away by the view before him. From where he stands, the whole kingdom is visible. Every house, shop, person, animal, all of it stand right before his eyes. The wind blows his bangs out of his face and carries through to his ponytail. Shiro wishes he could always just have a moment to appreciate things like this without having to constantly worry about being caught by the authorities.

“Quit gawking, and let’s get moving!” Zethrid demands as she shoves his shoulder. Shiro groans and is about retort when he takes a second a breathes. _Patience,_ he thinks. _Remember, patience yields focus._

Once they reach the right building, the four of them make it over to their point of attack. Zethrid removes the roof panelling, revealing a direct path to a jeweled crown that sits on a blue, velvet pillow on a pedestal. Acxa hooks a belt up to Shiro’s waist, pulls a rope through the loop on its back, and ties it tightly.

“You go down there. You grab the crown. We pull you up,” she says sternly as she hands him a leather satchel. “There are guards down there. Do _not_ make a sound.”

“I’ve got it,” Shiro simply replies.

Zethrid, Ezor, and Acxa begin slowly lowering Shiro through the opening. Shiro almost holds his breath, being careful as possible not to get noticed by the castle guards. As he approaches the crown he begins to open the satchel, ready for a quick and smooth transfer. He looks up at the guards, making sure they are completely unaware of his presence. When he is certain they are inattentive, he grabs the treasure, puts it in the bag, and yanks the rope to alert the three to pull him up. Shiro begins his ascent out of the room until he suddenly gets a funny feeling in his nose. _Oh my god, why now?_ He tries to suppress the itch he feels, covering his nostrils with one of his fingers, but it’s too late.

He sneezes.

Luckily, it wasn’t loud enough for all the guards to notice. Unfortunately, though, it was loud enough to get just one guard to notice who then alerts the rest of his presence. Shiro is quickly yanked out of the hole in the ceiling, and he and the rest of the bandits make their way off of the roof and towards the forest. The group successfully escapes the kingdom, but not without being chased down by the castle guards on horseback.

 

——

 

“Well, Blue,” Lance begins, “I’m gonna finally do it! I’m gonna walk right up to mother, look her in the eyes, and ask her to take me to see the lights!” he exclaims to the chameleon on his shoulder with a wide grin. “I’m… I’m really doing this.” Tomorrow is one of the most important birthdays of his life. Surely his mother would let him go just this once. Surely.

“Lance!” Honerva calls from outside the window almost as if on cue.

“Oh! Coming!” Lance replies, unable to stand still as he anxiously awaits to ask her his request. Blue hops from his shoulder to the wall and blends in with one of his star charts as Lance hurries to the window. He angles his hair onto a hook attached to the outside of the tower and lets it all fall to the ground where Honerva stands holding a basket of goods. Honerva wraps her foot around the hair and holds on as Lance begins to pull her up the length of the tower. In minutes, she reaches the window and enters inside.

“Hi, mother! I hope—”

“Lance, dear, I need a minute. Please.” Honerva interrupts as she puts down the basket and begins removing her cloak.

“Oh uh—yeah sure no problem!” Lance blurts, trying not to sound disappointed. “Did you want me to sing for you or…?” he asks.

“Very well. Let me just—” But before Honerva could even move, Lance already begins bringing over her armchair, his hairbrush, and his stool. As she takes her seat, he places his hair in one of her hands and his brush in the other. Once he sits on the stool, he begins to sing at a snappy pace.

_“Flower from above, shine as bright as day!”_

“Lance—”

_“Undo what’s been hurt! Come take this pain away!”_

“Lance, slow down—”

_“Mend what’s been broken! Fix without delay!”_

“Lance, stop going so—”

_“Return what once was! Come take this pain away!”_

_“LANCE!”_

_“_ So, mother!” Lance jumps up from his stool immediately after finishing the verse and faces her. “I’m sure you’re aware of what day is tomorrow because, you know, it’s the only thing I’ve been talking about for days!”

Honerva raises an eyebrow and stares at him blankly. “...And that would be?” she asks as she gets up from the armchair.

“Oh, well, you forgot that—you know what? It’s no big deal. I understand if it slipped your mind since you’ve been so busy with your errands and all,” Lance starts, twiddling his thumbs and avoiding eye contact with her. “But uh—tomorrow is actually my birthday! The big one eight!” He raises his arms in celebration and lets out a quick, forced laugh.

“Oh. That’s nice, dear.” responds Honerva, barely paying any attention as she begins unloading her basket.

“Uh—yeah s—so _about_ my birthday. I actually wanted to ask you something?” Lance goes back to fidgeting his fingers, growing more and more nervous to ask his question.

“I’m listening.”

“I um…” Lance starts but begins to chicken out. _No_ , he assures himself. _Just ask. You have to see them. You_ have _to._

“Well? Are you going to ask?” Honerva speaks, voice raised as she’s clearly growing impatient with how long it’s taking for Lance to make his point. Lance looks at his hands and then at the floor. He closes his eyes tightly until he finally blurts—

“I wanna see the floating lights!”

At those words, Honerva eyes go wide and her movements come to a halt.

“Excuse me?” she replies.

“I...I wanna see the floating lights,” Lance says, mindlessly stroking his hair. “That is—I mean—I’d want you to take me to see them. Tomorrow.” He raises his eyes to meet hers. Suddenly, Honerva’s mouth twitches into a smirk.

“Dear, you can see the stars from your window every night.” she says, her tone amused.

“N—no, mother, these aren’t stars.” Lance insists. He climbs up the fireplace and reveals the painting of the lights behind the curtains. “There are these lights that appear every year on my birthday— _only_ appear on my birthday. And I don’t know why, but something is telling me that I _have_ to see them. And not just by watching them from the window, mother, but _seeing_ them. In person.” He turns back and looks at the mural pensively, eyes fixated on the five lights at the top. “Mother, I _have_ to know… if they’re meant for me.”

Lance’s eyes are pleading. Honerva considers him for a minute then closes her eyes and speaks.

“Lance, dear,” she starts. Lance leans forward.

“Yes, mother?” he replies, scared yet a little hopeful.

“How many times do I have to tell you that under _no_ circumstances may you leave this tower?” she asks with malice.

“Mother, I know but—”

“No, Lance, you _don’t_ know because you keep _asking_ me.” she snaps. Lance is taken aback by her anger. He didn’t think that asking for something, which moments ago seemed like a simple request, for his birthday would ignite such disgust in the woman, yet she seems even more set off by the topic than usual. Honerva seems to take note of Lance’s reaction to her frustrations and does her best to calm down.

“Lance, dear, I am only doing what’s best for you. Do you know what people would do to you if they knew of your power? They would exploit it, whether it’s for money or for the power itself. And then how would you protect yourself? How would you feel if you allowed your gift to fall into the wrong hands?” Lance considers this for a moment. The thought of finding himself in the clutches of some power-hungry ruffian terrifies him and floods his conscience with guilt. “The world is selfish, my dear, and I can’t bear to see it treat you so horribly,” she concludes.

Lance rubs his arm as he looks up from the floor. He stares at his mother’s now-softer expression. Then, reluctantly, he gives into his mother’s foresight. “I understand,” he answers.

“Come here, starlight,” Honerva says, extending her arms out towards Lance. He completes the embrace, holding his mother tightly. She moves one hand into his hair and strokes it gently.

“I love you, mother,” Lance says.

“I love you, too.” she replies plainly. “I have to run out and get more supplies. I’ll be back in a few hours.” she informs Lance. He nods, and arranges his hair around the outdoor hook for her descent. With her cloak on and basket in hand, she kisses Lance’s forehead and grabs onto his hair. He lowers her to the ground and waves her goodbye. As she walks away from the tower, Lance props his elbow on the windowsill and rests his cheek in palm, stares out into the vast unknown, and ponders his mother’s words while seventy feet of silver dangles in the wind.

Maybe she is right. Maybe he isn’t ready to see the outside world. Maybe he isn’t meant to see the floating lights. Maybe the best thing is for him to stay in this quiet tower for the rest of his days, wondering...

 

——

 

The group finally makes it to the forest and they maneuver through the trees. In passing, Shiro spots four wanted posters tacked on a tree—one for each of them. He backtracks and begins ripping them down, taking a good look at it. His reads “WANTED. REWARD,” above a drawing of himself, and below it says “Shiro. THIEF.” The other posters read the same, their own names and portraits taking the place of his. He drops the Acxa, Ezor, and Zethird posters and inspects his own when he notices something is… off. He looks at his face, then down at his clothes, then back up at his—

Hair. They got the hair wrong. They _always_ get the hair wrong.

“Shiro, what are you doing?! They’re right behind us!” Ezor exclaims as she pulls him forward. He shoves the poster in the satchel and joins back in the getaway. They make a sharp left into a narrow clearing that will hopefully buy them some time. As they continue forward, though, they reach a dead end as they come face-to-face with a cliff. With the castle guards close behind, there’s no time to go back and find another route.

“Someone lift me up,” Shiro suggests. “I’ll go first, then Acxa, then Ezor. Then we’ll pull up Zethrid.”

The three share a glance before Acxa extends her hand out. “Leave the crown with us,” she demands. Shiro looks down at her hand, eyebrows furrowed, then looks back at her.

“Fine,” he hesitantly agrees.

Zethrid stands at the bottom of the cliff as she holds up Ezor who holds up Acxa who holds up Shiro. Together, they manage to get Shiro over the ledge.

“Okay, pull me up,” Acxa says reaching out to Shiro. Shiro eyes her hand for a moment.

“Heh, actually,” he starts smugly, “I’m preoccupied at the moment,” he says as he reveals the satchel from behind his back. Acxa frantically looks down at her own body, not even aware that he had managed to take the crown from her. Shiro smirks at the three from the top of the cliff then makes a break for it.

Shiro flees from the cliff and continues to go deeper into the forest. Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid are finally out of the way, but the castle guards are still hot on his trail. He takes every opportunity to change course, but he keeps finding himself surrounded by a guard or two, the squad having decided to split up to account for Shiro continuously changing directions.

The guards start shooting arrows towards him at a rapid pace. Shiro manages to dodge them, using the surrounding trees as cover. He’s losing steam, though, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep running from them.

In front of him stands a tree with a small opening between the branches. Hoping that it will be enough to separate him from the guards, Shiro jumps through it, keeping his arms and legs close to his torso. He clears the jump and separates himself from the guards, except for one that makes it through the opening.

“Faster, Red!” shouts the guard to his horse. Shiro turns his head back at the commotion and sees the auburn thoroughbred quickly begin to catch up to him. Running was clearly getting him nowhere. He couldn’t go right, left, forward, or backward without having a guard nearby. So Shiro decides to go a new direction.

Shiro latches onto the closest tree and begins climbing. Using one of the arrows that guards had shot from him as well as his own blade attached to his back, Shiro scales the trunk of the tree as fast as possible. By the time the guard is at his location, Shiro is well hidden in the foliage.

“Where are you, you little convict?” the guard snarls. He hops off of his horse and begins searching the vicinity. With his crossbow in hand ready to fire, the guard approaches a few trees, looking in all directions. When the guard is a good distance away from Red, Shiro hops down from the branches onto the steed and whips the reins.

In an instant, Red takes off, flying past the guard and leaving him stranded in the woods. With eyebrows furrowed in determination and a grin on his face, Shiro whips the reins once more to command the horse forward. He was well on his way to freedom. That is, until Red comes to a full stop. She turns her head to the side and eyes Shiro.

“What are you doing? Go!” Shiro commands, kicking the animal with the heel of his boot. Red still keeps her eye on him. “Hey! I. Am. Your. Rider. Go!” he shouts with a bit of panic in his voice. The horse continues to stare. Shiro stares back, confused and anxious. Why wouldn’t she go? Was he doing something wrong? He’s never ridden a horse before, but based on his time observing guards chasing him on horseback, he was sure he was doing it right. Before Shiro could ponder this any further, Red jumps.

The steed jerks her behind violently, jumping back and forth while spinning in a circle. With the handle of the satchel still in his hand, Shiro grabs the reins tightly and holds on for dear life. Red was trying to throw him off! The horse continues to shake and twist and bounce around, moving faster and jumping higher. The movements are chaotic, but not enough to get Shiro off of her back.

That is until Shiro’s back collides hard with Red’s behind. He cries out in pain and instinctively reaches for the area of impact. Without hold of the reins, Shiro is knocked off the steed’s back, relinquishing his grip on the satchel. As he falls to the ground, the bag is thrown a few feet in front of the two of them.

Shiro’s body aches as he pushes up from the ground, face scratched up and back sore. His gaze rises from the ground to out in front of him, eyes making contact with the satchel that’s too far from his reach. He forgets for a moment that Red is still there until she grunts loudly and catches his attention.

Shiro flicks his head between the steed and the satchel, getting his bearings. How is he going to outrun a horse let alone grab the crown in the process? Red stands in front of Shiro, right between him and the bag. Shiro has one last idea—reckless, but not impossible.

Shiro gets to his feet and charges Red. The brute charges back, and soon they are on a path for collision. Shiro’s heart is pounding, his whole body coated in sweat, but like hell he’s going to let the crown slip from his hands when he’s this close to having it for himself.

Shiro speeds up. Red slows down a bit, confused by Shiro’s actions. Shiro doesn’t stop, though, continuing straight for the horse. Red, however, slams the breaks as she digs her hooves into the ground against her own momentum. Once he’s come to a full stop, the horse jumps up spreading her legs outward in an attempt to regain balance. _Perfect,_ Shiro thinks. Just before he comes into contact with Red, he drops to the ground and slides underneath the steed’s body.

With the speed he’s built up, Shiro glides under Red with ease as he makes a beeline for the satchel. The second the last of his body is out from under Red, Shiro returns to his sprint and targets the crown, staying low to the ground.

Red, shocked and irritated, is unable to react fast enough to Shiro’s plot. All she can manage to do is turn her head a full one-eighty and stare wide-eyed as Shiro snags the satchel from the grass.

“Yes!” Shiro cheers as he flees. Red comes to her senses and heads in Shiro’s direction. As she runs, Shiro looks behind him to see that the horse has once again continued her chase, but he’s managed to create a bit of distance between the two. He quickly sidesteps his path and hides behind a boulder near a mountain of stone covered in greenery. He peeks out from the top to see Red searching the space thoroughly, listening for the slightest of noises and sniffing the ground looking for a trail.

As Red passes his hiding spot, Shiro heads in the opposite direction. He goes to place his hand against the mountain to support himself as he stands but finds that it phases right through it. He turns to the wall of leaves and presses his hand against it once more. His hand goes through it again. He pulls back the leaves, revealing a hidden tunnel within the mountain. With luck finally on his side, Shiro heads into the secret passageway.

He runs to the other side, periodically checking back to make sure Red has lost all traces of him. When he looks forward, though, his eyes widen in amazement.

Out in the distance stands a beautiful, ivory tower covered in vines and moss. The top of the tower is wooden with a blue cone-shaped roof, and even from Shiro’s distance, he can see all the painted details of the wood, bright colors dancing around a singular window, seemingly the structure’s only entrance. The tower itself has to be at least a hundred feet tall. This place seems to be the perfect hiding spot for Shiro, just long enough until the guards decide to search elsewhere for him. He puts the satchel around his torso and makes his way towards the building.

When Shiro reaches the base of the tower, he looks for something that will allow him to reach the window. He finds no stairs, no ladder, no grappling hook, nothing except the pillar of white bricks that stands before him. He has only one option left: climb.

Using his blade and the arrow from before, Shiro begins his ascent up the tower. He alternates between the two, wedging the weapons into the crevices of the wall to hold himself as he moves upward.

And so, he climbs and climbs and climbs, pushing off of the bricks with his boots and pulling himself towards the top. He climbs and climbs and climbs, slipping a few times or losing his grip as as the arrow fails to lock into the tower’s wall. He climbs and climbs and climbs. Until finally Shiro reaches the tower’s window.

With the entrance in sight, he hurriedly pushes open the doors with one hand, the other firmly pushing his blade into the wood of the exterior. Once they’re open, he hooks his free hand around the windowsill and hoists himself inside. His body rolls through the opening, and he lands flat on the hard tile floor. He ignores the pain from the impact, though, focusing on the fact that he _actually_ got away and with the crown no less.

Shiro gets to his feet and catches his breath. His heaves out a sigh of relief and looks down at the satchel resting against his hip. He grabs the top of the bag with one hand and opens it with the other. He looks down triumphantly at the crown, his ticket to a better life, his key to leaving behind his time as a criminal, his chance to restart and create a honest living.

“Finally,” Shiro exhales. He reaches for the crown when he suddenly sees black. The last thing he remembers is feeling an abrupt, sharp pain in the back of his head.

 

 

 

Lance stands above the intruder’s lifeless body holding a frying pan defensively over him. He eyes the stranger (that he just assaulted!) nervously.

“Oh my god…,” he whispers. “Oh my _god,”_ he says a little louder and more panicked. “I just knocked out a person. Did I kill him? I killed him, didn’t I? Oh my god, I just _killed_ a person!” he whisper-shouts as he digs his free hand in his hair and pushes it back. But before he can continue to panic, he hears a soft groan come from the trespasser’s mouth. “Oh, thank god,” Lance says relieved, placing a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

Lance studies the intruder for a moment. He notices that his very pale skin contrasts nicely with his messy, raven hair that’s been poorly pulled back in a low ponytail. He notices the stranger’s sharp jawline and pointed nose. He notices how this stranger’s eyelashes are quite long as they rest above his cheeks, cheeks that seemed to have gotten scraped up somehow. He notices the stranger’s lack of any off-putting features. He doesn’t seem to bear fangs or sharp nails like his mother had insisted that people on the outside possessed. He wonders if his eyes are just as intriguing as the rest of him. Those eyes have undoubtedly seen more of the world than Lance has, the world that Lance has only experienced through his books, his mother’s stories, and his tiny window. He’d like to imagine that those eyes would tell Lance so much about what’s outside. If only he got to see them before—

“Huh?” the man stirs.

“ _AHHH!_ ” Lance screams. Instinctively, Lance uses the frying pan to knock him out once more. This knocks out the intruder for good, at least for now.

“Okay… okay, so,” Lance began. “Let’s evaluate the situation. A person broke into the tower, and now he’s on the floor, unconscious. A person from the outside world. The very outside world that mother hates more than anything, and if she sees him here, she is going to _kill me!”_ Lance says distressed. He looks to Blue (who is inspecting the stranger for herself) for a solution. Blue simply shrugs. “Wow, thanks, Blue. I can always count on you for help!” he says louder than intended. Blue grumbles at his sarcasm. “Okay, I’m sorry. You know that I love and appreciate you,” he assures. Blue makes a pleased noise.

So what was he to do? If the world is as horrible as Honerva says, then Lance can’t return him while he’s still out cold. But he can’t leave him out in the open, either. The only thing he could do for now is hide the unwanted visitor. He looks around the common area for options. The kitchen? No room. The fireplace? Too cramped. He’s low on options, that is until he spots it: the closet. Perfect!

Lance puts down the frying pan, reaches under the intruder’s armpits, and lifts him up from the ground. _Wow_ , Lance thinks, _this guy weighs a_ lot _more than he looks_. He drags him over to the closet and gently places him back on the ground. He opens the closet doors and pushes the empty hangers and clothes hanging to either side. Lance puts one hand on his chin and rests his elbow on the other. He looks in the closet, then down at the passed-out stranger, and then back in the closet. How’s he gonna do this?

He first decides to lift him up again. Lance walks backwards to the closet as he drags the boy with him. He heaves him into the closet, pushing his torso in first while simultaneously trying to scoop his legs inside. He gets the stranger’s upper half in, but his legs still hang out the doors. Lance tries lifting him upright and against the back wall of the closet, angling his feet and back so that he can stand. Lance slowly backs away from his body, arms out in front, ready to catch him if his body falls over. He seems to stay standing, so Lance goes to shut the closet doors. After they’re closed, he eyes the closet for a few more seconds, just be safe. When all seems good, he turns and pats himself on the shoulder.

“Alright, not too bad if I do say so myself,” he says with triumphant laugh. Lance begins to walk away when he hears a thud from behind him. He slowly turns back towards the closet, shoulders raised up to his ears. He inches closer to the doors and reaches for the handle when he hears another thud that makes him retract his hand immediately. He stares for another moment. Then, suddenly, the doors open and the stranger’s still-unconscious body falls out and on top of Lance.

When Lance opens his eyes and lifts his head, he is met with those same beautiful lashes and locks of midnight hair he had found so noteworthy before. His face warms and flusters the more he’s aware of their contact. He quickly shoves the stranger off of himself and stands back up. Okay, so, that plan had backfired, but the closet is the only good hiding spot, so his plan just needed to be fine tuned.

Lance inspects the inside of the closet. The only things inside are the clothes and hangers he had pushed towards the walls. Well, this will have to do. Lance lifts the comatose man once more into the closet.

“Geez, how hard did I hit you in the head that you’re able to sleep through all of this, buddy?” he mutters. He stands the body up just like he had before. He then takes one of the hangers and shimmies it underneath the back of the intruder’s red tunic. When the hanger is secure, Lance lifts him one last time and hooks him to the closet bar. There, that should hold him for now.

He closes the doors and slowly backs away. While still keeping an eye on the door, Lance lassos his hair around the leg of a kitchen chair and pulls it towards him. He angles it against the door handles to prevent them from opening again, just to be extra safe. When the chair is perfectly in place, Lance cautiously backs away once more.

“Okay, so now, I have a person in my closet,” he starts. “A person that _I_ knocked out… all by myself!” he exclaims. “Wait, Blue,” he turns to the chameleon who hasn’t moved from her spot on the floor. “this is perfect! If I show mother that I stopped an intruder all by myself, maybe then she’ll let me see the lights!” Lance smiles so wide at the thought. This might be just what he needed to prove himself! But before he gets caught up in his victory, something next to Blue catches his eye.

He walks over and crouches down to investigate the satchel resting on the ground. The stranger had been carrying this when he entered the tower and nothing else. What was so important about it? Lance picks it up and examines the entire exterior. It seems like just an ordinary bag. He decides to reach inside, and he feels something cold and sharp, a metal of some kind. What he pulls out is a beautiful, jewel encrusted crown that glitters at every angle in the sunlight. The crown has a silver base that was fairly thin and five points around the circumference. The entire crown is coated in a variety of blue, silver, and white gemstones. On one side of the crown is a bigger blue gemstone in the shape of a teardrop.

Lance walks himself and the crown over to a mirror. He locks eyes with his reflection as he slowly places the crown on top of his head, displaying the teardrop gem right in front. He lowers his hands from his head and just stares. Something about this crown feels… familiar. It fit so comfortably and _right_ on his head. The gems don’t stop glistening as Lance turns his head left and right, viewing the crown from every angle. He’s mesmerized by the sight before him.

“Lance!” the familiar voice calls from outside the tower. Lance shakes out of his daze and begins to scurry to the window when he remembers that he’s still wearing the crown. He quickly takes it off, places it back in the satchel, and hides it in one of the house pots. Blue once again camouflages into the wall of the tower.

“Coming!” he shouts to Honerva. He hooks his hair and lowers it to her feet.

“I have a bit of a gift for you!” She yells to him on her way up.

“Really?” Lance asks excitedly. “I kind of have one for you, too,” he mumbles under his breath as he continues to pull her up. She hops in through the window, basket stuffed with ingredients.

“I thought I’d make you garlic knots for your birthday. They are your favorite, no?” She says with a grin.

“Oh, yes! Your garlic knots are heavenly,” he states. “But before that, I actually wanted to show you something.” Honerva’s smile drops.

“I hope this _something_ doesn’t have to do with the stars, dear,” she says agitated. “I think I was very clear on the matter.”

“No—well, sort of,” Lance replies as he inches up to the closet. “Remember how earlier you said I can’t leave because the world is full of dangerous people and I have no way to defend myself? Well, hear me out ‘cause I—”

“Lance,” Honerva raises her hand, signally him to stop his speech before it’s even begun, “I am not having this conversation with you again. My mind is made up.”

“But listen, I can show you that I can protect—”

“Lance, I will _not_ entertain this idea any longer.”

“Just hear me out! I can—”

 _“Lance!”_ she shouts and stomps her foot. “You are _not_ to leave this tower, _ever_! Understood?”

All Lance can do at that moment is stare as Honerva’s sentence echoes through the whole tower. So that’s it, isn’t it? Nothing is going to change her mind. He’s certain he could stop an entire group of bandits by himself and she still wouldn’t let him outside. She’s set on keeping him here. Forever.

Lance deflates and retracts his hand from the closet. He looks down at his bare feet and holds himself. Honerva opts to sit down in her armchair and drag her hand down her face. The silence between them is deafening. No one says a word, so Lance decides to change the subject.

“So, mother,” he speaks softly, still keeping his eyes focused on the floor, “remember a few years ago when you got me that ink set from the beach? I was wondering if maybe that could be my birthday gift this year.”

“Lance, the beach takes approximately three days to travel to and from,” she answers.

“Y—yeah, I know. I just thought that it’d be a better gift than seeing the li—the stars…,” he says defeated. Honerva looks him up and down until she finally sighs, stands up, and walks over to Lance.

“Fine. If I go, will you be alright on your own?” she asks, reaching out to gently rub his arms.

“You know me, mother. Lancey Lance can take care of himself,” he laughs out, but it’s fake. She pulls him into an embrace and strokes his head. He hesitantly returns it.

“Okay, dear, I’ll go then.” She kisses the top of his head. He holds her just a little tighter then.

They break from the embrace. Lance begins packing her basket with enough food for the trip while Honerva dons her cloak. She gives Lance one last goodbye, caressing him from his head down to his cheek.

“I’ll see you in three days, starlight,” she says sweetly.

“See you in three days,” he responds.

Lance leads her to the window and sets his hair up for her departure. Honerva secures her foot in his hair, gives Lance one last loving look, and holds on to his hair. With that, he lowers her down to the ground. She gives one last goodbye and she waves, and Lance returns it with a subtle smile. The minute she faces away from the tower, though, Lance sprints back towards the closet.

He picks up the frying pan he had and makes his way to the chair. He holds his breath as he carefully pulls it out from under the door handles. When he hears no thud, he put the frying pan handle under his armpit and goes to open the doors. There still hangs the stranger, still very much unconscious.

“Okay, I know he invaded my home, but I should probably apologize when he wakes up for knocking him out so hard,” Lance says. Lance turns the chair so that it faces the closet. Then, ever so carefully, he unhooks the man from the closet and gently lowers him into the chair. As the intruder’s head falls back, Lance notices that he’s been drooling. It’s almost cute, he thinks. Almost.

“Alright, Blue,” he lends a hand out for his chameleon companion to hop on, “what’s our next move?” Blue makes a few indistinguishable noises. “Right, he’ll probably be waking up soon,” Lance replies. He fiddles with the frying pan as he thinks of how to handle this. While he’s lost in thought, Blue starts crawling up from Lance’s shoulder and around his neck.

“Hey, what are you—!” he flinches. Blue’s little feet tickle Lance as she makes her way to the top of his head. “Blue, s—stop! That tickles!” Lance says, giggling uncontrollably. Once Blue has reached her destination, she starts stepping in place and walking in a circle hastily. “Blue, seriously what are you—” Lance stops abruptly, and turns to look at the seventy feet of silver that drapes the room. “Good thinking, Blue,” he says with a smirk. Lance puts his frying pan down. He goes to gather all the hair that he can carry and brings it back over to the man. Then, he gets to work.

Lance begins wrapping his hair around the stranger’s limp body and the back of the chair. He wraps and wraps and wraps until his entire torso and his arms are covered in silver. Lance pulls his hair tight, making sure that the man has little to no room to move. Then, Lance gets down on one knee and begins wrapping his hair around his wrists, tying him to the arms of the chair. Lance glances up at the stranger’s unmoving face and observes. For someone who was knocked out twice with a frying pan, he looks surprisingly at peace. Lance slows down wrapping as he gets distracted by the stranger’s slow breathing, the stranger’s relaxed eyebrows, the stranger’s lips slightly parted, his—okay, so he admits it! He’s cute! But that doesn’t matter because he broke into Lance’s home. He’s a criminal, not a friend. Lance shakes his head and gets back to work.

He secures the stranger’s wrists, then finally secures his ankles to the legs of the chair. With one last tight tug on his hair, Lance stands a grabs the frying pan. Now, all that’s left is for this trespasser to wake up. So, Lance waits.

And waits… and waits… and—holy crow, Lance really doesn’t know his own strength, huh? No matter, Lance was tired of waiting. The sooner he wakes up this intruder, the sooner he can get him out of here.

“Blue,” he whispers to his shoulder, “you mind helping me out here, buddy?” Blue nods. She jumps from his shoulder and onto the chair. She crawls up his shoulder and stands right next to his head. She gives him one look up and down and then…

She sticks her tongue in his ear.

 

 

 

Shiro jolts awake, eyes snapping open. He feels something fly off of his shoulder. His breaths are sharp and quick as he looks in every direction, trying to grasp where he is and what happened to him. He moves to get up from the chair he somehow ended up in, but he’s restrained by—is this hair? Shiro follows the trail of hair starting from his feet and across the floor to around the room he’s in. There’s… so much of it everywhere.

“What the hell?” he grumbles. Where is he exactly? How did he end up tied in someone’s hair? _Whose_ hair is he tied up in?

“Good, you’re awake,” says a low voice somewhere. Shiro jumps at the unexpected noise. “‘Cause now you have to start answering my questions.”

“Who are you? What’s going on?” Shiro growls. He struggles against his restraints, trying to separate himself from the chair.

“Stop moving, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” the voice says with a laugh. Shiro chooses to ignore their words and pulls harder against the hair.

“Geez, buddy, do you listen at all?”

“Just let me go. I don’t want any trouble,” Shiro says rigidly. The last thing he needs right now is to be in trouble with another person. He just needs to get out of here as fast as he can.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to stay out of trouble when you break into someone’s home,” the voice scoffs.

“And _whose_ home would that be?” Shiro taunts.

There’s a thud in front of him as someone jumps down from one of the tower’s beams and onto the floor. Before him rises a tall, tan-skinned boy. He wears a navy blue laced-down vest with a sky blue collared undershirt and baggy black pants that cuff at his ankles. He holds a frying pan (is that what hit him before?) up defensively toward Shiro. But most notable is the waterfall of silver that starts at his head and falls to the floor, filling the room with rivers of shimmering locks. Shiro looks back up at the boy’s face. His expression is cocky but cautious. His nose is long and pointy, and his eyes are a unique shade of blue that Shiro can’t help but stare at a little longer than he probably should. He also has some sort of little green pet of his shoulder.

“Mine,” the boy says as he approaches Shiro, frying pan still held high. “So tell me…?” the boy gestures to him with the frying pan.

“Shiro.”

“Shiro,” he repeats. The boy ponders the name in his head for a moment. “Well, _Shiro_ , what _exactly_ do you think you’re doing in my tower, huh?” He points the frying pan at him. “Are you here to steal my hair, is that it?” He inches closer. “Take it for yourself and then when you’re done with it pawn it off to some other sleazy criminal?” The frying pan is now centimeters away from his face.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about, okay?”

“Likely story.”

“No, I needed a hideout and your tower was my best shot of getting away with the—” Shiro pauses and frantically looks around the room. _”Shit_ , where is my satchel?!” He looks at his captor with fire in his eyes.

“Listen, man, you’re not getting that satchel until you tell me everything I need to know. Besides, it’s hidden in a super secret location that you’ll never find in a million years without my help,” he responds confidently, crossing his arms and smirking. Shiro huffs a laugh.

“Yeah, okay, I’m sure it’s—” Shiro takes a quick look around the common room and points. “—in that pot sitting on the floor.” He chuckles and looks back at the boy whose face has dropped, wide eyes glaring at the decorative pottery then back at Shiro.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Shiro deadpans.

“N—no! Of course it’s not! And frankly, I don’t think that’s any way to speak to the person who has you wrapped in their hair and is pointing a frying pan at you! I’m sure that you don’t wanna be knocked out for a third time, now, do you?” He tilts Shiro’s chin up with the frying pan, forcing them to make intense eye contact.

“Okay, so—uh…,” Shiro looks to the boy.

“Lance.”

“Lance. Humor me, Lance. What do I have to do to get out of here with my satchel?”

Lance doesn’t respond for a moment. He retracts the frying pan from Shiro’s face and looks down at the ground, eyebrows furrowed. Then his head perks up and he turns Shiro’s chair towards the fireplace. Lance climbs on top of the fireplace and pulls back the curtain, revealing a mural.

“Shiro,” he speaks with a noble voice, “Do you know of these lights?” Lance gestures to the painting of yellow and orange rectangles that lay on top of a dark blue background. Shiro recognizes it in seconds.

“Yeah, isn’t that the lantern ceremony they do for the children of the royal family?”

“Lantern ceremony?” Lance breaks character to smile giddly. He looks back towards the mural. “They aren’t stars. They’re lanterns!” He turns to Shiro and blinks, remembering that he was in the middle of an interrogation. He clears his throat.

“Well, Shiro, tomorrow night is the next _lantern ceremony_. And you—” He gestures to Shiro with his frying pan. “—will be personally escorting me to it. That is, if you want to get out of here with your satchel,” he finishes. Shiro can’t help but laugh at Lance’s boldness. Who does this guy think he is?

“Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m not exactly on good terms with the kingdom. Plus you have to let me out of your hair eventually, and I already know where the satchel is hidden, so looks like you’re out of luck,” Shiro smirks as Lance frowns at his statement. Lance has clearly never interrogated anyone before and therefore doesn’t know how this works. It’s almost cute how hard he’s trying. Almost.

“That all may be true, Shiro,” Lance hops down from the fireplace. “but need I remind you who knocked you out _twice_ and tied you up? Again, I really don’t wanna have to knock you out another time, but I will if I have to.” The frying pan is pointed at Shiro once again.

“Look, I’m not asking for much. You take me to see the lanterns, you take me back home, you get your satchel, and we never have to deal with each other ever again.”

“And how can you be so sure you can trust me?” Shiro looks him straight in the eye. Because it’s true—how can he? Lance thinks he’ll simply agree to this plan and he’ll just go along with it? Maybe it’s because he’s naive. Or maybe it’s because he’s desperate.

“I’m _not_ sure,” Lance retorts. “But... I’m gonna trust you anyway,” he resigns as he looks at Shiro, almost defeated. Lance turns back around to stare at the painting of the lanterns. Shiro doesn’t know why, but he almost feels bad for Lance. He can tell just by how excited Lance got finding out that the lanterns were, indeed, lanterns that he’s been wanting to see them for a long time. Maybe the easiest thing to do for everyone is to just give Lance what he wants.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but—” Shiro shakes his head. “—I’ll take you.”

“You—wait, really?” Lance asks surprised.

“As long as there is no funny business, okay? Straight to the lanterns then straight home after.”

“Deal! Deal, yes that’s a deal,” Lance shakes Shiro’s shoulders with the little mobility they have against the restraints. Lance abruptly stops what he’s doing and flushes. “R—right, okay, good. Let’s get going then,” Lance sputters out.

He begins untying Shiro’s restraints, loosening the tight silver knots around him. Once Lance frees him, Shiro stands and stretches, rubbing his wrists. Lance gathers his frying pan and pet (chameleon?), and Shiro makes sure he still has his blade on his back. Luckily, Lance hasn’t noticed the weapon he carries.

The two make their way to the tower’s window. Shiro pulls open the doors and removes his blade. He doesn’t know where the arrow he’d been using has gone, but he isn’t going to ask Lance for it; he might get the wrong idea. Looks like he’s going down the tower one handed.

He steps out the window, but Lance grabs one of his wrists. Shiro flinches at the contact and raises his blade defensively.

“Woah, man, easy! I was just gonna ask you what you’re doing?” Lance says, free hand raised defensively.

“What does it look like I’m doing? We’re leaving.”

Lance lets go of his wrist and points. “You’re gonna climb down? With just a knife?” he asks.

“I mean, yeah,” Shiro shrugs. Lance pushes him aside and places the frying pan under his armpit. He leans out the window and starts arranging his hair around a hook above the exit, forming a large loop. When he’s done, he faces Shiro, hand on his hip.

“Alright, get in,” Lance says casually, nodding his head towards his knotted hair.

“Get in?”

“Yeah, put your foot in this loop, and I’ll lower you down,” Lance easily replies. He says it as if lowering someone down a one hundred foot tower is normal. Maybe it is for him?

Shiro complies and carefully sets his foot in the loop. He holds tightly to the hair above him.

“I swear to god if you drop me—”

“Relax, buddy, don’t go giving me any ideas,” Lance says and lowers him down. Shiro keeps his eyes on Lance, making sure that he won’t try anything funny. The descent is slow but steady. He can’t lie, this is definitely a better alternative to climbing down the tower himself. Soon enough, he reaches the ground and relinquishes his grip on Lance’s hair.

 

 

 

As Lance pulls his hair back in, a knot forms in his stomach. Is he really about to leave? Betray the trust of the one person who has only looked out for him his whole life? Enter a world that he has never even stepped foot in? This is all just a bit insane. But then, he looks back to the mural above the fireplace. He looks at all those individual lanterns of yellow and orange, the five that dance together at the top. No, he has to do this. He has to leave. Just once.

Lance rearranges the hair on the hook so that he can lower himself down. He hops up on the windowsill and leans out, standing on his tippy toes but holding tightly on his hair so he won’t fall.

“Well, Blue? Are you ready?” he asks. Blue latches onto his shoulder and grunts. Lance lets out a small laugh. “Me neither, buddy.”

Lance stares out into the open field. The realization hits him that he’s about to touch this land for the first time ever, land that has been right outside his home his whole life. He’s going to get to feel _grass._ All that’s left to do is take the first step.

He looks down at Shiro who has his arms crossed and is tapping his foot impatiently. He looks one more time around the interior of the tower. He looks at Blue sitting on his shoulder. This is it.

“Here we go,” he whispers. Hold his hair with all his might, Lance closes his eyes and walks forward. And then, he’s falling.

Lance opens his eyes and takes in the world around him. He looks in every direction from the streams to the trees. He loosens his grip on his hair to speed up his descent. He has never felt more alive. He can’t hold in the laughter that forms in his throat as he raises one hand high in the air. And he laughs and he smiles because _he’s out._ Before he knows it, though, Lance is very close to the ground. He quickly snaps out of his trance and tightens his grip on his hair.

He approaches the ground, cautiously stretching out one of his legs to steady himself. He leads his big toe to the grass and makes contact. He closes his eyes as his foot meets the ground, and when nothing happens, he opens them. He stares at his foot in the grass and gently lowers the other. Soon both of his feet are touching soft, silky grass. The soil below him is firm and cold. Lance lets go of his hair and puts down the frying pan along with Blue who has crawled onto the pan, all while keeping his eyes solely focused on his bare feet. He did it.

“I did it,” he mutters. He slowly gets to his knees and starts playing with the blades of grass between his fingers. He digs his fingers into the rich soil, grabs a clump in each hand, and tosses it outward. If he got dirt stuck in his fingernails, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care at all. He flops on his back, looks up at the sky, and holds out his arms. “I did it!” he yells to the world with the biggest smile on his face. Lance laughs and it’s so genuine because this may be the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life.

Suddenly, the sounds of birds chirping catches his attention, causing him to jerk his head up at the sound. He stares at two robins who seem to dance around each other in the air. Lance stands and follows them. He’s walking towards them. Then he’s running towards them. Then he’s just running without direction. All he knows is that he just needs to run because _he can._ He thinks he hears a voice from behind him, but he can’t stop to give it his attention.

Lance’s footsteps lead him to a little pond. He rolls up his pants to his calves and splashes around the water, all the while laughing to himself. It feels so refreshing on his skin. He cups some of the water in his hands and tosses it towards the sky, letting it rain down on him. Behind him, Lance hears the crunching of leaves.

“Look, Lance,” Shiro says from behind, standing on the edge of the pond. “I don’t mean to interrupt your, uh… experience, but we should get moving.”

“Oh, uh—right. Sorry about that. It’s just…,” Lance pauses to close his eyes and inhale the fresh air, his smile never faltering. “It’s just a lot to take in, you know?”

“I get it, but do you think you could take it all in while we walk? We’re losing daylight,” Shiro says, crossing his arms.

“Okay, okay. Let me collect my frying pan and Blue,” Lance says as he shakes the water off of his legs.

“Who’s Blue?”

“My best friend.” Shiro stares blankly. Lance rolls his eyes. “The chameleon.”

“Ah.”

Lance and Shiro walk back towards the tower. The two find Blue rolling in the grass right next to the frying pan. Lance’s holds out his hand for her.

“Adorable as always, Blue. C’mon,” he grins. Blue crawls up his arm and takes a seat on his shoulder. Then, Lance turns around to give the tower one last look.

“I’m really leaving. This is… this is really happening,” Lance mumbles. “Man, mother would _kill_ me if she knew I was doing this, huh?” Lance chuckles.

Until his words actually sink in a few moments later. Then, Lance panics.

“Oh my _god_ mother would _kill_ me if she knew I was doing this! What if she finds out? You saw how mad she got just from asking her to take me to the lights, Blue. Imagine how she’d react to know I let a complete _stranger_ take me to them! She’d lock me in my room forever. I’d never see sunlight again. Then I’d just waste away on my bed covered in dust and then—” Lance’s ramblings come to an end as Shiro puts both hands on his shoulders.

“Lance, calm down,” Shiro says sternly. “Look, if this is too much for you, then let’s call this off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you’re _that_ worried about upsetting your mother, then maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe you should go back in the tower, and I’ll just take my satchel and go,” Shiro suggests. He gives Lance a little grin. That sets Lance off.

Lance shoves Shiro off of his shoulders. “No, no, no, no, you are not getting out of this so easily. I am _going_ to see those lights, and _you_ are gonna take me, and we’ll be back before my mother even realizes I’ve been gone,” Lance counters. Shiro grunts in frustration.

“Okay, then let’s go already.”

Shiro leads Lance to a tunnel—the connection between Lance and the outside world. Shiro opens up the curtain of leaves, walking them into a dense forest. As they enter, Lance looks up to see all the mighty trees towering over them. Very little sunlight passes through the leaves and branches, but Lance doesn’t mind the cool shade. A snapping noise pulls Lance out of his fixation, though, as he directs his eyes back down to the ground. He hears it again and frantically tries to search for the source of the noise. His eyes move in all directions until they finally land on a rustling bush. Lance instinctively points his frying pan towards it, shoulders raised and stance lowered.

The bush’s movement become more dramatic, but Lance never drops his guard even as he begins shaking. Shiro notices only moments later that Lance has stopped following him. He turns to face Lance—who is trying his best not to look terrified—and follows his line of sight to the bush.

Lance slowly walks forward, dragging his bare feet through the dirt. Every time he hears a crack come from the bush, he raises the frying pan even higher, hiding his face in his shoulder. He’s just about to pass the bush when it suddenly starts shaking violently. Lance freezes and looks to Shiro who—wait, is that jerk _smiling?_ Fine, if he’s gonna be that way, then Shiro could take care of whatever is in that bush.

Lance looks to the bush then to Shiro. When the movement seems to wither out a bit, Lance makes a beeline for Shiro. Shiro’s face goes from amused to confused as Lance runs straight for him without slowing down.

“What are you—” Shiro starts but is interrupted as Lance jumps into his arms, wrapping his feet around Shiro’s waist and his arms around Shiro’s neck, the weight of Lance’s body and hair pulling him down. Shiro’s face goes bright red. “H—hey! What are you doing? Get off of me!” he protests as he tries to detach Lance from his body, but Lance doesn’t budge.

“No! If you think this is so funny than you can take care of the monster in the bush!” Lance spits out as he hides his face in Shiro’s neck which only flusters him more. Shiro shakes his head and sighs, defeated.

He walks over to the bush which acts again. As the noise picks up, Lance begins to tremor against his body. He just wants whatever is in that bush to leave them alone! The noise comes to a peak, Lance finding himself holding tighter to Shiro, then it stops.

Lance slowly turns his head forward and looks down to find a small, white rabbit standing in front of the bush, scratching behind its ear with its foot, making a soft purring sound. They lock eyes.

“You are safe now, princess, for I have slain the beast,” Shiro says monotone. Lance turns back at him and finds a smug look on his face. Flustered, Lance hastily unwraps himself from Shiro and stands, hands dusting off his vest.

“Ha ha, very funny,” he deadpans. “Make fun of the guy who has never left home before, real mature.”

They return to their walk through the forest, Lance coping with the embarrassment of the situation, until Shiro pulls him aside.

“Maybe we should stop and get something to eat before we journey to the kingdom,” Shiro casually suggests.

“Wow, I’m glad you said that ‘cause, not gonna lie, I am starving,” Lance says, patting his tummy. The thought of food right now sounded amazing.

“Great.”

 

——

 

Red continues her hunt for the wanted thief, scouring every inch of the forest. She searches high and low, sticking her nose in every bush, behind every rock and boulder, and around every tree trunk. Her search comes to a pause, however, when Red suddenly hears the crunching of leaves somewhere not too far away.

She slowly makes her way towards the noise, body lowered and hooves barely leaving the ground. The person making the noise seems to be getting closer as the crunching sound amplifies. Red drops down behind several shrubs and waits for the suspect to pass. When they seem in close enough in range, Red pounces out from the bushes and stands face to face with the person who, unfortunately, is not Shiro but rather a young, fair woman in a violet cloak. Surprisingly, the woman is unphased from Red’s jumpscare, eyes remaining blank and uninterested.

The woman scoffs. “A palace horse, huh?” She stares at Red indifferently, until it seems as if something has almost clicked in her mind, eyebrows furrowing and eyes widening. “You don’t have a rider,” she states concerned. She straightens her back and turns around. “Lance…,” she whispers, and she takes off without a second thought. Red continues to stand in her same spot and stares as the woman sprints back the way she had come.

 

 

 

Honerva hastily makes her back to the tower, not even sparing a moment to catch her breath.

“Lance!” she calls from the base of tower. She is only met with silence. She calls for him again moments later, but there is still no answer. She makes her way to the side of the tower and pulls aside a tapestry of flowers camouflages an entrance that’s been covered up in stones.

Honerva frantically begins tearing down the wall of stones, using the energy from her panic and anger to easily remove them one by one. The now-visible entryway leads to a spiral staircase all the way to the top of the tower. Honerva wastes no time scaling the staircase, eventually reaching the top and removing a tile which gave access to the tower’s common area. The whole place is silent and dark.

“Lance!” Honerva calls one last time. Still no response. She checks his room. Nothing. Her room. Nothing. Bathroom. Nothing. Behind curtains, under tables, in closets. Nothing, nothing, _nothing._ The place is deserted. Lance is gone.

Honerva digs her long nails into her scalp and harshly scrapes back. This could not be happening. They couldn’t possibly have found him. Lance couldn’t have possible left willingly. He wouldn’t _dare_ to leave the tower willingly. But he’s gone. Her gift from the stars, lost.

In a fit of rage, Honerva picks up the nearest object, a small clay pot with flowers painted around it, and smashes it to the ground. She starts smashing every pot and vase that decorated her empty home, cursing and yelling as she went. As she goes for one bigger pot on the floor, however, she notices that it has some extra weight to it. When she looks inside, she sees something glittering, despite the lack of light filling the room. She reaches in and pulls out a beautiful silver and blue crown. She eyes it for a moment until it hits her—this is the crown of the Lost Prince. This is _Lance’s_ crown. She scowls at the jewel and tosses it to the ground in disgust and hatred.

She reaches back into the pot and pulls out a brown leather satchel. From the satchel, she pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. Dropping the purse, she unfolds the paper to find that it is a wanted poster for a thief known as “Shiro.” Honerva looks between the poster and the crown and raises an eyebrow. She stuffs the poster back in the satchel and retrieves the crown to put it in there as well. She walks to her room and opens the top drawer of the night stand which houses a thin, long, sharp knife. She takes the knife and puts it in the satchel, too.

 

——

 

Shiro takes them to a tavern known as the Cuddly Kitten. It’s a quaint little lodge in a small opening in the forest. The structure flows with the curves of the ground, making the building slightly bent in a U-formation. The doors and windows are bordered in an array of colorful wood. There is music and yelling coming from inside as well as the appetizing smell of some sort of meat being cooked.

“This joint is one of my favorite places to eat in all the land,” Shiro informs Lance. “It’s just an average, humble, sit-down restaurant. A good place for us to take a break before we head to the castle.” Lance’s muscles relax when he hears that. Maybe the whole plight with the rabbit before made Shiro realize that Lance needs to take things slow. And with a name like “The Cuddly Kitten,” how bad can it be? By the looks of this place, this is just what he needs.

Except it’s the exact opposite of what he needs.

When they enter the tavern, they are greeted with the stench of sweat and smoke and glares from all the restaurant-goers. The restaurant-goers, though, aren’t “average” and “humble”. They are all clad in metal, leather, and fur, most being muscular and tall with scratches and scars adorning their complexions. Some growl at the sudden appearance of these two outsiders. Some tighten their grip on their weapons. Oh yeah, many of them brought weapons. Lance knows who these people are—ruffians.

Lance eyes widen at the crowd before him, and he swiftly lifts the frying pan up. Blue buries herself in Lance’s hair for protection. Shiro puts his hands on his shoulders and guides him forward. Lance aims the frying pan at every thug they walk past, each staring at him with threatening eyes.

“C’mon. Our table is just right up ahead,” Shiro says uncharacteristically sweetly, and they slowly make their way towards the back of the tavern. Something pulls Lance backwards, though, as one of the delinquents, a pale woman whose blonde hair is separated into two long braids and eyes that appear purple in the light, picks up his hair and inspects it.

“This certainly is a lot of hair,” she says, surprising Lance with her gentle accent. The rest of the ruffians transition their focus on his locks rather than Lance himself. Lance turns and quickly gathers all the hair he can hold, snatching it from the woman’s hands. He backs up against a wall next to the fireplace and tries to keep a eye on every brute at once.

“What’s wrong, Lance? Is this place too much?” Shiro asks condescendingly. “I mean, if some place like _this_ is a lot, then I don’t think it’d be wise to bring you anywhere else.” He removes Lance from the wall and leads him towards the exit. “Maybe it’d be best if I just took you home.” Lance can see that this was Shiro’s plan all along, to scare him out of venturing to the castle, but it’s hard to focus on his anger when the entire tavern has their attention turned to him.

Before they can cross the threshold, the door is shut by a brawny man with rich, black skin, bright, olive green eyes, and undercut dreadlocks. Between his palm and the door is a wanted poster for Shiro.

“Is this you?” he asks flatly, his gaze searing through Shiro’s eyes.

“Uh…,” is all Shiro can manage to say, avoiding the man’s powerful eye contact.

“Why, that appears to be him alright!” someone else says from behind, a tall, built man with his hair slicked back and a large, voluminous moustache on his face, both the shade of a vibrant orange. His sleeveless shirt accentuates his strapping arms. “James, go get the castle guards,” he orders one of the thugs in the back. He proceeds to one-handedly lift Shiro by his tunic. “That reward will do us as quite nicely.”

The whole tavern cheers to that, but Shiro hurriedly removes himself from his grasp, only to be captured in the arms of a much larger man, black bangs sitting on the sides of his face and an orange bandana tied around his head. Shiro struggles against the man’s tight hold around his torso.

“Sorry, man, but all of us could really use the money. And you’re, uh—you’re kind of a highly wanted criminal, so—and I mean none of us here have perfect reputations but you—yeah, we should turn you in. Sorry,” his captor says in one breath.

“Let go of me!” Shiro demands, kicking against the big man’s body. Two more thugs come over, both having short, chestnut hair and big, amber eyes, One is about a foot taller than the other and wears spectacles. They each grab one of Shiro’s legs in an attempt to subside his thrashing.

“Hold him, Matt! He’s still squirming!” the shorter one yells.

“I _am_ holding him, Pidge!” the other—Matt—responds.

Soon the rest of the ruffians are crowding around Shiro, the blonde woman from before holding one of his arms and a woman with long, cool silver hair—much similar to Lance’s though not nearly as long—that contrasts nicely against her warm, brown skin, holding the other. The mob pushes Lance out of their circle, and he’s left on the outside, barely able to see Shiro anymore.

“Hey! Wait!” Lance shouts, but his voice is drowned out by the commotion. He tries to squeeze through the crowd, but the horde is too restless to move aside long enough for Lance to slip in. The mustached man stands in front of Lance, cracking his knuckles and rolling back his shoulders as he prepares to wind up a punch directed at Shiro. Lance needs to stop him fast before Shiro is arrested and he’s forced to go back to his lonely, sheltered life.

He finds the end of his hair and lassos it around the man’s wrist. When it hooks on, he pulls the hair down with two hands, causing the thug to tumble backwards. The crowd, including Shiro, goes dead silent.

“Let him go!” Lance demands. The man shifts his focus from Shiro to Lance, his eyes wild with rage. He slowly approaches Lance, and Lance stumbles back towards the bar.

“Okay, man, listen,” Lance starts. “I don’t wanna start any trouble, but the annual lantern ceremony is tomorrow, and I need Shiro to take me because I’ve been _dreaming_ of seeing it in person my whole life, and I can’t see them unless he comes with me, and I get that he’s a big, bad criminal and all and should be prosecuted for his actions and whatnot, but he is the only person right now who can help me fulfill a lifelong dream. I mean, don’t you understand what it’s like to have a dream?”

The man comes eye to eye with Lance, his gaze never flickering. He looks as if he’s about to yell, Lance preparing to flinch in response, until his expression turns into a full blown grin.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so, my boy!” The man laughs and wraps his arm around Lance’s shoulders. His voice, accent thick yet extremely charming, is much friendlier than Lance had anticipated. “Of course we all know what it’s like to have dreams! Why, I myself hadn’t always planned on being a tavern keeper.” He leads Lance over to an empty table and sits him down. The thugs’ grasp on Shiro is relinquished as they seat him next to Lance. The whole lodge crowds around the table to listen to what the mustached man has to say.

“I’ve always wanted to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and work for the royal family. You know, he actually helped build the castle in Altea. Know a lot about architecture from him! But I always saw myself as less of an architect and more of an advisor of sorts: keeping everything in check, assisting the king and queen with royal matters, keeping watch over the royal children,” he explains, making wild hand gestures as he goes. Lance listens to the man keenly, his eyes and smile both going wide. Shiro prefers to roll his eyes and focus his attention somewhere off in the distance.

“Yeah, I mean, I always wanted to be a famous chef,” the big guy starts. “I love seeing the smiles on people’s faces when they get a taste of my food. And I’m lucky I get to do that here thanks to Coran,” he gestures to the mustached man.

“And you’re doing a terrific job, Hunk!” The tavern keeper replies.

“Thanks, Coran. But, I don’t know, sometimes I wish I could let _everyone_ try my food. I just really like cooking and experimenting with new flavors,” he finishes bashfully.

“Well, Hunk, was it? If you’re food is as good as you say, then I’d _love_ to have a bite of something you’ve cooked up!” Lance says encouragingly. His request makes Hunk blush.

“Coming right up, man,” Hunk says as he retreats to the kitchen.

The small one from before, Pidge, starts next. “I’ve always dreamed of being an inventor! I have a notebook full of ideas of how to make everyday tasks easier.” She pulls out a small book, leather covering tattered and worn out, and opens it in front of Lance. He flips through it, every page covered in schematics and notes on all kinds of different gadgets and gizmos. Written are concepts and ideas Lance doesn’t think he could come up with in a hundred years, yet each of them seems to have a plausible way of becoming a reality. One that catches his eyes, though, is a machine that can take a person to space. A ludicrous idea out loud, but Pidge has several pages dedicated to this one invention with designs, mathematics, physics, every detail thought out.

“Those are for my brother, Matt.” She gestures to the boy standing next to her. He waves awkwardly. “His dream is to see the stars.”

Matt rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground. “Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous, but space has always fascinated me. I mean, there’s _so_ much up there that we don’t know about.” The excitement in his voice picks up as he continues talking. “Imagine bringing back a star to Earth. Or even a piece of the moon! Who knows what kind of properties they hold, the potential they have to be made into something that can help society! I just want to see what’s up there, to _know_ what’s up there.” He stops and looks back at the ground sheepishly, realizing that he had been rambling, but Lance just sends him a very kind smile, a way of telling him that his dream isn’t as absurd as he’s making it out to be. He knows all about wanting to see the unknown. Matt returns the smile, feeling validated. Lance looks back at the book.

“Pidge, this notebook really is incredible!” Lance expresses. “For someone so young and tiny, you sure have a big brain.”

Pidge’s expression drops, and she slowly raises her weapon, a battle axe much too big for her size. “Call me ‘tiny’ again and see what happens,” she threatens. Lance gulps and forces a chuckle out, slowly closing her notebook and pushing it across the table towards her.

“Well, I for one have always dreamt of becoming a diplomat,” the woman with the silver hair begins. “I think it’d be a wonderful opportunity to travel outside of Altea, all the while forming new alliances with neighboring kingdoms! I find it’s very beneficial to learn from other societies, and adopting new ideas from each other will help the people of both kingdoms prosper,” she finishes. The woman has a very eloquent way of speaking, contrasting her intimidating and rough appearance. Lance is certain she’d be excellent at representing the kingdom, friendly and welcoming but also stern when she needed to be.

“And I’ve always dreamed of being a castle guard!” the pigtailed woman pipes in. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fight and defend. Plus I’d get my own shiny armor and sword! And when a criminal infiltrates the kingdom, I’d ride out on my horse, capture the fugitive, and save the day!” she exclaims valiantly, pumping her fist into the air and putting one foot on the table.

“I’d also want to make sure that Allura is kept safe,” she relaxes her stance and looks softly to the silver-haired woman. “Not that she’s incapable of taking care of herself, of course,” she quickly corrects.

Allura leans over and cups her cheek, bringing her in and giving her a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. “Oh, Romelle, that’s very noble of you,” she says warmly. She puts her arm around Romelle’s waist and pulls her in close, and Romelle places a sweet kiss on her cheek.

The sight leaves Lance’s chest feeling warm, and he places both his hands over his heart, admiring the display of affection. What a wonderful thing it must be to have someone like that, he thinks. Someone who’d fight others for the sake of protecting their significant other. Someone who would put their wellbeing on the line if it meant their love was safe.

Lance has read plenty of stories about romance—tales of a brave knight rescuing an endangered princess, or the prince waking the sleeping princess with the power of “True Love’s kiss”, or a man and woman meeting by a chance of fate only to fall in love at first sight—always assuming that love works just like it had in those tales. He wonders if that’s what love has been like for Allura and Romelle, if they saw each other’s eyes for the first time and just _knew_. Lance hopes he can meet someone like that one day, who’d protect him and make him smile. He hopes that he can find someone he’d want to protect and make them smile.

Lance is distracted from his thoughts when he smells the aromatic scent of food nearby. He hears the kitchen doors open, and Hunk makes his way to the table with two plates, the smell of cooked meat and vegetables filling the air. The fragrance alone makes Lance’s mouth water. He places a plate in front of Lance and Shiro. Shiro’s eyes widen at the meal before him; he didn’t expect Hunk to cook for him, too.

“Hunk, this look delicious! Thanks a lot, man,” Lance says and pats his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Shiro sputters.

“Not a problem, guys. Least I can do for Shiro, anyways, since, you know, we kind of… attacked you,” He clears his throat. “Anyways, dig in!”

Lance wastes no time picking up a fork and knife and cuts into the meat. Shiro, still a little surprised, is slower to start eating. One bite sends Lance over the moon. The meat is so tender and juicy, practically melting in his mouth. The flavor is unlike anything his mother ever cooked him. Lance almost sheds a tear. He even lets Blue have a small piece of vegetable because even she needs to taste this fine cuisine. Shiro seems to nod in approval at the food, a small, barely noticeable smile making its way onto his face.

“Hunk, you are a food wizard, and I love you,” Lance says bluntly, eyes dazzling. That gets a belly laugh out of Hunk, and he pats Lance on the back.

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it.”

The others continue to talk about their dreams while Lance and Shiro eat. One of them, Nadia, talks about her dreams of being a science teacher, a sensical career with her upbeat and friendly personality along with her knowledgeable brain. Another, Ina, says, she wants to open an animal shelter. And lastly, the robust man from before, Ryan, very contrastly to his reserved and intimidating personality, dreams of working in theatre. That even grabs Shiro’s attention.

“So what about you, lad?” Coran asks looking to Shiro. Lance looks at Shiro, too, curious, and sees him staring at Coran suspiciously.

“What about me?” he asks defensively.

“Well, certainly you have your own dream,” he responds. Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no, I don’t do the whole ‘spilling my hopes and desires out to complete strangers’ thing,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

The crowd responds to that by raising their weapons towards him: swords, axes, Allura had a _whip_ on hand. Shiro looks to Lance for a little help, but Lance only raises his eyebrows and slyly grins. _Payback._ Shiro rolls his eyes again and sighs. Lance figures that Shiro doesn’t find it wise to argue with the people who are trying to turn him in for ransom.

“Fine. I want—” The thugs clear their throats and raise their weapons higher. “I _dream_ of having my own little house far away from everyone where I can live peacefully alone without being bothered. There, happy?” He looks down at the ground and raises his crossed arms. Lance stares at him for a bit. He’s known loneliness his whole life, how awful and cold it is. How can anyone want that? Shiro _dreams_ of that? Lance is about to reach out to him when suddenly someone bursts through the door.

“I got the guards!” James announces. Lance and Shiro sit straight up and look at each other. Coran quickly pulls both of them with him to the bar. As they duck behind the counter, Lance hears a crowd of people usher in. He peeks over the bar to see several guards as well as three women, all handcuffed and chained behind their backs. One of the guards—his uniform slightly more decorated than the rest—steps forward. _The captain_ , Lance assumes.

“Where is he?” he demands. The place falls silent as everyone exchanges glances. “Someone better tell me where Shiro is this instant!” he shouts, slamming his fist on the bar counter. A few guards are sent upstairs to look for him while the captain and another guard search the dining area.

Coran gestures Lance and Shiro towards him. The two exchange a glance and follow his direction. Coran sneakily pulls down one of the bar levers, the one labelled with a cat. Rather than dispensing beer, the lever opens a doorway to an underground passage. The ruffians, on the other hand, work on a distraction.

“I believe this is the man you are looking for, gentlemen,” Allura says as she holds James up by the back of his shirt to one of the guards.

“What are you doing?! I’m the one who _got_ the guards!” he whines.

“Damn, I thought I finally found a way to get rid of you,” she mocks. Romelle giggles as James pouts.

“This passage will lead you back deep within the forest. It’ll take you far away from here,” Coran informs the two. “Now get going if you wanna make it to see those lights!” he whispers enthusiastically.

“Thanks for everything, Coran,” Lance says and throws his arms around the man’s neck. Coran smiles and returns the hug. Shiro clears his throat, signaling the end of the hug, and the two crawl through the secret entrance. Coran slowly stands, not wanting to bring attention to himself, and lifts the lever back up to close the door.

 

 

 

“Enough!” the captain yells. “Where is—” he stops as the door opens to Red. She enters slowly, sniffing the ground until she walks over to the bar. She sticks her head behind the counter, sniffing the ground below. She grunts and then peaks her head up. The guards look at her confused until she gestures to the cat beer lever. The captain steps forward and pushes it down, revealing the hidden passageway.

“Bingo,” the guard sneers. “Men, let’s roll out,” he commands, rallying all the guards together. “You,” he points to one of them. “Keep an eye on these _miscreants_ ,” he spits out gesturing to Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid. The guards and Red make their way down the path while the one guard holds a spear towards them.

The three exchange an unimpressed look, and Zethrid headbutts the guard unconscious. Ezor picks up the spear with her feet and catches it with her hands behind her back. She rips apart Acxa and Zethird’s chains, then Zethird rips hers, too.

“The mission still stands. We get the crown,” Acxa orders. The other two nod and they follow safely behind the guards through the passage.

 

 

 

James steps outside the tavern and dusts himself off. He makes a mental reminder to get revenge on Allura for making a total fool out of him. When he looks up, he sees a lovely middle-aged woman staring into the window. She seems a bit old for him, but who is he to deny her clear skin, gorgeous cheekbones, shiny gray hair tied in a low bun?

James whistles. “Well, what’s a lovely woman such as yourself doing at a place like this?” he teases, leaning an arm up against the pub. She turns and looks down on him unimpressed. He thinks his attempt at flirting has failed until she chuckles.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” she replies.

“Only for gorgeous ladies like you,” he says, advancing towards her. “What can I do for you?” he raises an eyebrow and grins.

She smiles sweetly at him. Then, unexpectedly, she pulls a knife from behind her back and points it at this throat. “You can tell me where that passageway leads out to.”

 

——

 

Lance, Blue, and Shiro make their way through the dark tunnel, Shiro holding a lantern he’d found close to the entrance and guiding the way. They walk in silence, which is fine for Lance, but he notices that Shiro seems to be lost in thought, intense gaze focused on the rocky ground. He looks like he’s trying to say something. Lance is about to ask if he’s okay, but Shiro starts speaking.

“Lance, I—” he pauses, trying to gather his words. Lance gives him his full attention. “I just wanted to say that, uh—back there, you… that was brave,” he says, giving up on trying to find the right vocabulary. Lance chest flutters, and he offers Shiro a bright smile.

“Did I hear that right? The infamous Shiro giving _me_ a—” He gasps. “—a _compliment?_ ” Lance teases as he dramatically brings his hand to his forehead and swoons. Shiro shoves him playfully.

“And that’s the only one you’re gonna hear,” he frowns. Lance chortles. _Cute,_ he thinks. “Thanks, though.” Shiro returns to silence, but Lance finds himself wanting to talk to Shiro, so he presses on.

“So tell me, Shiro, what’s your story?” Lance asks nonchalantly. Shiro’s eyes go wide and he stops walking.

“Oh no, we are not getting into this,” he protests. “I don’t talk about myself, especially not to people I just met and _especially_ not to people who knock me out with a frying pan.”

“Okay, first off, _you invaded my home._ Secondly, why not? I mean what can be so—”

“Lance,” he says, voice raised. “Please, drop it.” His tone is stern yet almost pleading, and Lance feels guilty for making Shiro uncomfortable. Lance nods, and they return to silence. _So the past is a touchy subject, noted._ They continue walking again without saying a word until, unexpectedly, Shiro speaks up again.

“Can I ask _you_ something about yourself?” he says carefully, turning to face him. Lance eyes him curiously. Seems kind of unfair that Shiro’s past is off limits, but Lance is being asked about his. Though, it’s nice to see that Shiro was asking for permission first. It’s rather… thoughtful.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Just… how come you’ve never left home before?” he simply asks. Lance’s eyes goes wide at the question. It’s innocent. Lance knows it’s innocent, but that doesn’t stop his stomach from twinging.

Before he can give Shiro any kind of answer, though, the ground rumbles. Behind them they hear a stampede of feet making their way towards them.

“Shiro…” Lance says concerned. They turn and see the faint glow of light moving towards them. They can make out the shadows of the guards coming their way, and they’re coming fast.

“Let’s go!” Shiro shouts and puts a hand to Lance’s back, allowing him to take the lead. Lance frantically gathers his hair in his arms, and the two sprint forward, guards hot on their trail.

 

 

 

The ground shakes as the guards close in on their location.

“Let’s go!”

Shiro guides Lance to the first exit he sees, leading them out to a canyon of sandy rock with a dam right behind the sitting behind the tunnel. The two go to the edge and find a tattered rope ladder, looking like it’s ready to snap if any weight is put onto it. From across the way on the ground, Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid bust through a barred up tunnel exit. Shiro’s stomach drops.

“Shit…” he grumbles

“Who the heck are they!” Lance shrieks.

“Old friends,” Shiro says scornfully. The three spot Shiro and head towards him, camping at the base of the cliff. The guards and Red exit the tunnel and now corner Lance and Shiro on the steep rock. Shiro watches as Lance turns around and looks at the water wheel connected to the dam. He follows the path of the wooden waterway attached until his eye catches another platform across from them.

“Hold this,” Lance instructs, shoving the frying pan into Shiro’s hands. He takes the end of his hair and hooks it around one of the wooden beams. He checks to make sure it’s secure, and then he jumps off the edge of the cliff and swings to the other.

Shiro watches in amazement as Lance lands with ease across the way, face flushing at the sight. His thoughts are interrupted, however, as the guards approach him.

“I can’t wait to put you behind bars,” the captain of the guards taunts, removing his sword from his sheath. The other guards follow suit as they push Shiro towards the edge. The captain makes the first move and jumps towards Shiro, but Shiro ducks at the attack. In one swing of the frying pan to the face, Shiro knocks out the captain with ease. His eyes go wide at the weapon and he smirks. The other guards come for him now, swords charging at him. But Shiro doesn’t let any touch him. He avoids and blocks every attack thrown at him. One guard after the other, he knocks them out, all going down with just one swing of the frying pan.

“I need to get one of these…” he says to himself astonished. He almost forgets about Red until she grunts, making her presence known, and gallops towards him.

“Shiro!” Lance calls from across the way. He has his hair tied around a boulder on the edge of the cliff. He whips the end to Shiro, and he grabs on just before Red can challenge him. Lance pulls his hair back, and Shiro swings from the cliff towards the ground. As he’s in motion, he sees Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid waiting for him below.

“Lance, pull me up!” he shouts. Lance bunches his hair up and pulls it towards himself, raising Shiro from the ground. He just barely escapes the three bandits’ grasp as he tucks his knees close to his chest and swings past them, landing onto the wooden waterway. Red kicks down one of the beams of the dam behind them to make a bridge from her to Lance. Lance, cornered, frantically backs up on the rock.

“Lance, I’ve got you! Jump!” Shiro calls, still holding tightly onto the ends of his hair. Lance hurriedly makes his way to the edge of the cliff. Red speeds up her movements and dives at him, trying to grab his hair with her mouth. But Lance is just a little bit faster and leaps from the platform, grabbing onto his hair and swinging to the ground. He slides into a puddle below and finds Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid following behind him.

Shiro lets go of his strands and slides down the waterway, but the damaged wood starts to break apart under his feet. The waterway separates, tumbling towards the ground and bringing Shiro with it. He jumps towards each broken piece, trying to make his final descent from the wood to the ground much shorter. Lance bundles his hair in his arms once more and turns to Shiro, eyebrows upturned in fear. Shiro makes one final leap from the waterway and rolls onto the ground. He quickly stands and joins Lance by his side. He puts the frying pan under his armpit and grabs the remainder of Lance’s silver locks dragging on the ground.

As the two break into a sprint, behind them, the dam begins cracking. The guards, Red, Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid all drop their pursuit to see the dam burst from the wood, sending a wave of water to flood the whole canyon. Lance and Shiro keep their eyes forward as they aim for another tunnel entrance.

The tidal wave washes away the guards and Red first. It then destroys the water wheel along with whatever remains of the waterway. Then finally the bandit trio are swept into the tide. The water continues to come, hard and fast, tearing apart the rock as it flows, but Lance and Shiro never slow down, the tunnel right in front of them. Behind them, though, the wave collides with a thin pillar of rock, causing it to break from its base.

The rock descends directly over Lance and Shiro, but they continue forward. They dash with all their energy to the entrance, and, just barely, they make it inside, the rock blocking the entryway only moments after.

 

 

 

The two catch their breath, heaving against the rocks. They managed to get away, but they still had to get out of this tunnel. They look to each other to make sure the other is ready to move forward until they notice the water leaking through the cracks of the tunnel entrance, and it’s filling up fast. They turn to move forward, but only manage a few feet before they reach a dead end. They look back at the water which had already reached above their ankles.

Shiro hands the frying pan to Lance and dives into the water to search for an exit. Lance looks at the rock wall behind him and starts hitting it with the frying pan. Blue jumps onto the wall, staying out of Lance’s way as he tries to wedge the handle into the crevices of the wall, but the stone doesn’t budge. Shiro surfaces to catch his breath and dives back under once more. The water is now at Lance’s hips, but he continues to try and find a loose rock. Shiro resurfaces and gasps for a breath of air. His hair tie seems to have fallen out, for his hair sticks all around his face and neck.

He pushes his hair back with both hands then begins throwing his body against the rock, quietly grunting at each impact. Lance watches him with worry, reaching out to him after every rough contact with the wall. Shiro then tries to push apart some of the rock, using both hands to find a weak stone. He suddenly cries out as his left hand slides across the sharp stone and creates a huge gash in the middle of his palm. He takes a deep breath and pounds on the wall with his unharmed fist, an act of frustration and fear.

The water is at their waists now. Lance looks down it, braving the dark unknown, and dives straight down. He’s quickly pulled up by Shiro, though, who holds him by the shoulders. Lance coughs out the water he ingested on his way up.

“Lance, it’s no use. It’s pitch black down there,” he says defeated. He gently pushes the front of Lance’s hair behind his ear and stares, a crushed expression on his face. Lance stares back, unable to do anything else.

Lance turns towards the water approaching their chests and simply stares. They’re going to drown. They’re going to die before he gets to see the lanterns. They’re going to die and it’s all his fault. If he hadn’t left, if he hadn’t dragged Shiro with him, they’d both be okay right now. But they’re not, and it’s his fault.

“I got us into this,” Lance begins, trembling. “If I hadn’t left—if I had just _listened_ to her then we’d—” he hiccups as the tears start coming. “I am so s—sorry, Shiro,” he finishes. With that, he begins to sob. Blue rejoins his shoulder to comfort him, but it does little to stop his crying. He’s going to die, what else is he to do? He takes Shiro’s unresponsiveness as an acceptance of their fate, but then he speaks.

“Keith,” he says.

“What?”

“My real name is Keith Kogane. I figured I owe you at least that,” he says, avoiding Lance’s stunned gaze. Lance wipes his eyes with the ball of his hand and looks at him, a sense of vulnerability and tiredness overtaking Shiro—Keith’s face. Then, he smiles and speaks, too.

“I have magical hair that glows when I sing,” he confesses casually. Keith looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

“I said I have—”

It hits Lance.

“I have magical hair that _glows_ when I sing!” The water is at their chins. He had to do this fast. He latches onto Keith and sings.

 _“Flower from above, shine as bright as day—”_ he starts but is interrupted by the water quickly approaching the top of their heads. Lance, Blue, Keith take one big breath and go under.

It’s pitch black at first, but soon enough the roots of Lance’s hair glow bright blue, and the light carries through the rest of it. Keith opens his eyes and chokes on water at what he sees. The whole cave is filled with a vibrant shade of blue. The two follow the trail of hair and find it being pulled towards an area of small rocks. The water is leaking out somewhere.

The two look to each other, and Blue grabs onto Lance’s hair. They swim to the pile and begin pulling each stone out of place. The light from Lance’s hair is already starting to dim. They’re running out of time. They continue swimming forward and pulling out rock after rock. The light is now almost completely gone, and they are about to lose visual again. In one final attempt, Keith pushes against the wall and finds a loose rock. He punches it outward, creating a small hole to the outside world. He pushes the rest of the wall, and the whole thing comes down, emptying Lance, Blue, and him into a river.

The three of them breach the water, coughing up water as they lean over the grass off to the side. They all catch their breath for a moment, until Lance looks up, beaming.

“We’re alive!” he cheers.

“Your hair glows,” says Keith.

“We did it!”

“Your hair glows.”

“We make a pretty good team, huh?”

“Why the _hell_ does your hair glow?!”

“That’s, uh, not the _only_ thing it does.” Lance laughs and heaves himself out of the water. He offers a hand to Keith, and he hesitantly takes it.

 

——

 

Honerva hid behind a boulder, patiently waiting Lance and Shiro to emerge from the exit that James had directed her to. She holds the knife closely to her chest and makes sure her cloak shadowed her eyes. After an hour or so of waiting, she hears noise come from the hole. She peaks above the rock, ready to attack once they came out.

The trapdoor opens, but instead of Lance and Shiro are three women, one small but toned, one sleek and tall, and one big and built, all hacking as they dragged themselves out of the exit, clothes somehow soaked.

“I’m going to break Shiro’s skull next time we see him!” The big one declares. _Shiro,_ Honerva notes.

“We can still intercept him if we go through the kingdom. We can easily sneak through, and then we’ll take the crown for ourselves,” the small one tells. “Let’s go.”

“Or,” Honerva says emerging from behind the boulder and standing in front of the trio. “Perhaps you three should stop trying to chase him and use your heads instead,” she snaps, holding the satchel up to them. They all stare bewildered, and then they draw their weapons on her as they ready themselves to fight her for the pouch.

“That won’t be necessary,” she says nonchalantly. She tosses the satchel to the tall one who fumbles when she catches it. She quickly opens the bag and pulls out the crown. Her and the big one smile, but the small one stares with distrust at Honerva.

“What do you want?” she growls.

“Oh, nothing in particular. I just had a better offer for you three is all, but if you’d only like your crown, then I’ll be moving along,” Honerva remarks. She starts walking away when someone pipes up.

“What offer?” the tall one asks. Honerva breaks into a wicked grin and turns back around.

“Something worth much more than a mere crown,” she starts as she pulls out Shiro’s wanted poster. “And revenge on him.”

The three of them look at each other and smile venomously.

 

——

 

By nightfall Lance and Keith have settled against a large tree back in the forest. Lance’s hair is spread throughout the entire area, still drying from when they emerged from the river. Now that Keith had finally got a fire going, much to Lance’s protest due to his injury, he sits on a tree branch next to him and hunches over, taking a minute to actually breathe.

“Give me your hand,” Lance says, offering his own. Keith looks up, then eyes his gash, still open and raw, then looks back at Lance who is giving him puppy-dog eyes, begging him to let him see it. Keith rolls his eyes and passes it over. Lance takes the tail-end of his hair and starts wrapping it around the wound.

“What are you— _ow!_ ” Keith cries as the hair makes contact with the cut.

“Sorry, sorry!” Lance panics and immediately stops wrapping. When the pain subsides, Keith nods, and Lance starts again, going much slower this time. Keith watches him with fascination and curiosity.

“What are you doing exactly?” he asks.

“You’ll see. Just—”

“Look, I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do which… I still don’t really get, but I’m fine.” Lance huffs out his nose.

“Ugh, for two seconds can you stop being Mr. I’m-A-Tough-Criminal-On-The-Run-And-I-Don’t-Need-Help-From-Anyone and just let me help you?” he snaps. Keith eyes widen at his retort, but he can’t help but grin at his gesture.

“Okay, fine.”

Lance continues to cover the injury until the only thing visible are beautiful strands of silver. Lance cradles Keith’s hand in both of his and sighs.

“Okay, so, before I start,” Lance begins, “you have to promise that you won’t panic. Or scream. Or yell. Or bring any unnecessary attention to ourselves.” He looks at Keith very seriously, more serious than when they first talked in the tower.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Promise!”

“Okay, I promise!”

Lance takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes. He slowly exhales and relaxes his face. Then, he sings.

_“Flower from above. Shine as bright as day.”_

Keith is instantly entranced by Lance’s singing voice. It’s… beautiful. The notes are soft and light, but powerful all the same. The melody itself is melancholic, but with Lance singing it, Keith can’t help but feel warmth erupt in his chest.

_“Undo what’s been hurt. Come take this pain away.”_

What distracts Keith from Lance’s singing, though, is the bright blue glow, the same blue glow from the cave, that starts at Lance’s roots and slowly spreads all the way through every inch of Lance’s hair to the ends wrapped around his hand. The two of them are trapped in a circle of cyan. It’s as if Lance is a star, emitting his natural glow and heat, and Keith is helpless to his gravitational pull.

_“Mend what’s been broken. Fix without delay.”_

Keith gradually feels a surge of energy enter his body as the song proceeds. It makes him feel… better. He feels as if he just had woken up from a good night’s rest, not like he just escaped a group of guards, a horse, a trio of bandits, and nearly drowning. He feels carefree, as if the weight of all his crimes has been lifted, as if his conscience has been cleared.

_“Return what once was. Come take this pain away.”_

Soon enough he finds himself staring back at Lance, making note of all his delicate features: his beautiful clear skin that the blue light bounces off of so nicely, his freckles that are sprinkled all across his cheeks, and his nose that hooks up a little at the end. Keith almost wishes Lance would open his eyes while he sang. He imagines that the light would be like a moon reflecting over his ocean blue irises.

_“Take it away.”_

Lance opens his eyes as he finishes the last note. The glow dulls, and the fire is the only light once more. Keith finds himself staring at Lance, and Lance is staring back. Keith shakes his head and looks down at his hand to unwrap the hair.

Underneath he finds—nothing. There’s nothing there. Not even a scar. His hand is completely healed. Keith stares.

And then he freaks out.

“What... the fu—!”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Lance shouts, lunging forward and places both of his hands over Keith’s mouth. “You promised me you wouldn’t freak out, and you’re freaking out! Please stop freaking out!”

 _“Mmph!”_ Keith speaks underneath Lance’s tight hold. He removes Lance’s hands from his mouth and takes a deep breath. “Explanation. Now,” he demands. Lance fidgets a little and begins playing with his fingers.

“I don’t know why exactly, but my hair’s been like this since, well, forever, I guess. Its power can keep people young, healthy, and strong forever. My mother told me that when I was little, a lot of people would try and cut it for themselves, but when it’s cut, it turns brown and loses its power.” Lance pauses his story and pulls his hair over his left shoulder, revealing a short clump of brunet locks underneath.

“Powers like that, they can’t fall into the wrong hands. They need to be protected. I stayed in that tower so that no one could take advantage of me. And as long as I did, then no one would. So… I never left,” Lance finishes somberly. He plays with the silver strands between his fingers. His face has completely fallen, a sad and guilty expression taking place. Keith wishes he could do something to get rid of his frown.

“Are you still gonna go back after this?” he asks impulsively.

“No! I mean I—” Lance closes his eyes at the thought and throws his face into his hands. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Keith isn’t good at comforting people; words are not his strong suit. But seeing Lance so distraught, knowing how he’s spent his whole life isolated from the outside, he wants to comfort him. He wants to find a way to fix Lance’s situation. But he just—doesn’t know how. So instead he opts to reaching out and rubbing his back. But before he can, Lance is sitting back up, hands pushing his hair out of his face. Keith quickly retreats his hand and blushes furiously. _What are you doing!_ he thinks. Now Lance is staring at him, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.

“So... Keith Kogane, huh?”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that you confessed to me your true identity meaning you’ve had a fake identity for what I’m assuming is years now, but no. We can just forget about it. It’s not important at—“

“God, if I just tell you the truth, will you stop talking?”

Lance makes of show of shuffling closer to Keith, dramatically bringing his palms to his cheeks, and giving Keith his full attention. Keith rolls his eyes, but he honestly finds the body language endearing.

“I grew up in an orphanage. I don’t know anything about my parents. My only connection to them is the blade I carry, the one thing that was left with me. Many people came in and out of that place, but every so often, this one man in particular would visit: Takashi Shirogane.”

“Oh, what, was he a thief, too?” Lance jokes.

“No, not even close. He was a retired soldier, a scholar, a hero to everyone he met. He told me stories about battles. He taught me about history, and he taught me about the stars. Every time I found myself getting agitated and impatient with something, he’d reel me back in and say ‘Patience yields focus.’ Takashi made every kid at the orphanage feel like they mattered. He made me feel like I mattered—like I wasn’t just some nuisance, like I was capable of being so much more. He told me that he’d never give up on me. He was the closest thing I ever had to a family.

“But Takashi was also really ill, and eventually he ended up passing away. I—I didn’t take the news well, and as a result of some lashing out and disobedience, I had to be removed from the orphanage. And there wasn’t any other place that would take a kid who had a history of violent behavior, so I was forced to live on the streets. Stealing was my only way of surviving.”

Keith refuses to make eye contact as he finishes his story, eyes burning holes into the ground. Talking about his past and Takashi… it never got easier. Lance, on the other hand, never breaks his gaze, looking with soft, pitiful eyes. He reaches out and places a steady hand on Keith’s shoulder which grabs his attention. Lance smiles sweetly, his smile consoling Keith. Keith smiles back, once more getting lost in the ocean of Lance’s eyes, the rhythmic push and pull of the tides relaxing him. They stay like that for a moment until Keith realizes he’s been staring too long. He clears his throat and returns to his serious demeanor.

“You better not let this get out,” he says to Lance, but Lance only continues to smile.

“Who me? I would never want to ruin the reputation of the most wanted criminal in the kingdom,” Lance replies sarcastically. At that, they both share a laugh, a loud, genuine laugh. Keith likes the sound of Lance’s laugh.

“Anyways, uh—thanks for, you know, listening,” Keith ends shyly.

“Of course, buddy.” Lance smiles at him again. Keith returns it, then stands.

“I’ll—I’m gonna find some more firewood,” he says. Lance nods, and he turns towards the forest.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance says, pulling Keith back for one last word. “Just so you know, I think Keith Kogane is _way_ better than Shiro,” he shrugs.

“Yeah?”

“Yup.”

“Well… you’d be the first then. Thanks,” Keith grins.

“But I _do_ prefer Shiro’s hair to the mullet you’ve got going on now,” Lance giggles, having to get the last word in.

“I’m leaving. Goodbye,” Keith huffs. He turns back around, and swiftly walks into the woods. Without even realizing it, Keith lifts his now-healed hand close to his chest. He feels a little remorseful when he has to remove it to start gathering firewood.

 

 

 

“I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

Lance watches Keith walk away, the feeling of butterflies in his stomach overtaking. His face feels very warm, and he’s pretty sure it isn’t from the fire. Lance thinks back to Allura and Romelle. He thinks about making someone smile. Keith Kogane makes him smile. Lance wants to make Keith smile.

“It’s about time he left. I was starting to get impatient,” a chilling voice says from behind him. Lance stands startled and turns to see his mother standing there, face hidden underneath her cloak. When she removes her hood, her appearance is older, weaker. Her hair has gone a lighter shade of gray and has lost some of its shine. Her skin has more wrinkles and seemed ashier.

“Hello, starlight.”

Lance is stunned by her presence, paralyzed by her stare. “But weren’t—what are you—how did you find me?” he stammers. She approaches him slowly and strokes his hair.

“Lance, dear, did you think I wouldn’t know that you left the tower just because I wasn’t home?” she asks maliciously. Lance sighs. Of course. He should have known better than to think she wouldn’t realize he was gone. “We’re going home, Lance. Now.” She roughly grabs his wrist and pulls him with her towards the forest. He resists, though, and yanks his arm from her hold.

“Wait, mother, listen to me. So far this day has been unlike anything I’ve done my whole life. I’ve experienced so many new things, I’ve met so many kind people, I even might… I might _like_ someone.” He looks at Honerva for a reaction, but he is met with her usual face of indifference.

“If you’re referring to that _dirty_ thief, Shiro, then I don’t want to hear it,” she ridicules.

“Don’t talk about him like that. You don’t even know him,” he responds angrily, clenching his fists. “Mother, I think he likes me, too.”

Honerva halts at that. Lance awaits for a response, and his stomach drops when she laughs cruelly.

“Likes you? Lance, do you hear yourself? Why would he like you? Tell me this: does he know about your power?”

Lance says nothing.

“Exactly. He is going to use you just like anyone else would if they knew. Of course he doesn’t like _you;_ he likes what you _can do.”_

Lance considers this for a moment, but then he quickly pushes the thought away. Keith wouldn’t use him like that. He wouldn’t.

“I’ve had enough of this discussion, Lance. We’re going home, and that’s final.”

_“No!”_

They both widen their eyes in shock: Honerva surprised at his boldness, and Lance surprised at his volume.

“No?” she asks.

“N—no,” he mumbles.

Honerva circles him, eyes him up and down, like a snake trapping a helpless mouse, preparing to tear it apart. Lance stands there frozen under her gaze, afraid one move will set her off. She takes his hair in her hands and threads it through her fingers with her long nails.

“Well, if you’re _so sure_ that Shiro likes you, then you should have no worries about giving him this.” From inside her cloak, she pulls out the satchel. And from there, she pulls the crown out from inside. Lance’s eyes go wide and he stumbles backwards.

“Where did you—”

“You trust him? Fine. Give him the crown. And when he gets what he’s been after, he is going to leave you the second he gets the chance.” She walks closer to him and shoves the crown in his hands. She then bends down, places the satchel around his torso, and pulls him close to her so that her mouth is right next to his ear.

“And then you’ll come crawling back to me,” she whispers. Lance gulps, her cold words sending a shiver down his spine.

As if magically, Honerva disappears with a flash of her cloak whirling through the air. Lance tries to calm his heartbeat as he stares down at the crown sitting in his hands. He has to find a hiding place before—

“Hey, Lance!” Keith shouts from the forest. _Oh no._ Panicking, Lance shoves the crown back into the satchel and quickly removes it from his body. He tosses it behind the nearest tree and makes his way back to the campfire, sitting just as he was before, trying his best to stay calm.

“So If I jumped from a tall building and broke every bone in my body, would your hair—hey, are you okay?” Keith asks. Apparently, Lance’s attempt to act as if his encounter with his mother didn’t just happened has failed.

“Y—yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” he chuckles out. Keith looks like he’s gonna speak again, so Lance cuts him off before he can question him any further. “Anyways, I think we should get some rest. I mean, we have a big day tomorrow full of dream fulfilling and whatnot, so goodnight!” Lance jumps up from his place on the tree and finds a spot on the ground for sleeping. Keith puts the gathered twigs and branches into the fire as he processes the conversation.

“Okay then… goodnight,” he says simply. Keith finds his own place on the floor and gets comfortable.

Lance doesn’t get much sleep that night, thoughts of Keith, the crown, and his mother overwhelming his head.

 

——

 

The next day, Keith is awoken by the cold sensation of water droplets hitting his cheeks. He grunts as his eyes flutter open to see Red towering above him, presumably soaked from the dam incident.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he huffs. Red grabs Keith by his foot with her mouth and drags him across the dirt. Keith starts kicking in protest, but Red’s hold on him is too strong.

“Stop—no! Let go of me, you stupid horse!” he shouts. His loud demands promptly awake Lance and Blue. Lance gasps at the sight, quickly runs to Keith’s side, and grabs his hands. It turns into a game of tug-o-war as Lance and Red fight for Keith.

“Give him back!” Lance yells, pulling on Keith’s hands with all his might. Red’s grip doesn’t deter, though, and she sinks her teeth further into the boot. Perhaps too much into the boot, though, as she pulls it right off of Keith’s foot. The sudden loss of an opposing force sends Keith flying on top of the Lance and tackling him to the ground.

Keith lifts his head to meet Lance’s stare, the boy’s cheeks and ears having tinted pink. He sputters and quickly pushes himself off of Lance, trying to ignore the blush that consumes his face. The sound of thumping reminds him of his current predicament as Red comes charging back towards him. Keith is about to grab Lance and make a run for it until Lance stands between him and Red, arms out in front of him.

“Woah, woah, woah! Relax, girl,” he speaks gently. “Take it easy now.” Red attempts to move past him, but Lance steps in front of her with every move she makes. Her anger simmers down as Lance continues to softly reassure her. Soon enough, she halts her movements entirely and bows to Lance.

“There you go!” Lance cheers. He slowly walks towards Red and tenderly strokes her head. “Would you kindly drop my buddy’s boot for me, please?” Lance asks with a smile. Red eyes him for a moment but complies. Lance beams at her cooperation and moves to cradle her head in both his hands.

“You’re such a sweetie, aren’t you girl?” he coos. Red leans into the touch. “Are you tired from chasing Mr. Mullet across the whole kingdom?”

“Hey!” Keith calls from behind.

“You must be exhausted from all the hard work you do, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” Lance asks in a baby voice as he moves to brush the rest of Red’s mane. Red neighs in response to Lance, confirming his statement.

“Hey, I don’t get why the horse is getting all the sympathy when _I’m_ the one who has been chased through the woods for two days straight,” Keith pouts, crossing his arms as he sits like a child on the ground, his bare foot sticking out.

“Well, this lovely lady has just been doing her job while _you_ , Mr. Grumpy Pants, have been nothing but trouble. Isn’t that right—” Lance bows his head to read the name on her saddle. “—Red.” She nudges her head affectionately against Lance’s cheek and he laughs. Keith groans at the interaction. “Hey, that’s funny. First we got Blue, and now we have Red,” Lance remarks as he looks to his chameleon companion on his shoulder.

“So, here’s the thing, Red. Today is a _pretty big deal_ for me, and I’d really appreciate it if you help my travel buddy here not get caught,” Lance puts simply. Red grunts at the request and glares at Keith. “Just for today! And then tomorrow you can chase him all the way to the stars. What do you say?”

Red eyes Keith again, and Keith meets her gaze. The last thing he wants to do is make a deal with a horse. But for Lance...

Defeated, Keith stands and nods to her. Red continues to stare, unresponsive to his truce.

“And it’s kind of, sort of my birthday today, so, you know, it’d be really sweet of you to help me out,” Lance adds, flashing Red with a bright smile and fluttering eyes. Red finally gives in and nods to Keith. “Great! Then let’s get going!”

 

 

 

They make it to the cobblestone bridge that connects the forest to the town. Lance jumps in place with excitement as he eyes the castle in the distance. He’s really here! In person! He wastes no time and runs across the bridge with Keith and Red following behind.

When Lance enters the town he is met with the smell of fresh bread and baked goods, the sound of footsteps and chatter, the sight of people (normal people!) making their way through the town to get where they need to go. It’s so simple, yet it’s better than he could have ever imagined.

He starts into town but is quickly reeled back as several people mindlessly walk over his stream of silver locks. He winces at the pain and quickly begins gathering his hair up in his arms. Keith gathers the hair trailing behind on the bridge and meets Lance at the entrance. The two look around for a solution. Keith spots four young girls sitting in line on the rim of a fountain as they braid each other’s hair in a line. Keith nods towards them and Lance and him walk to the fountain.

“Girls, would you mind…” Keith asks, gesturing to the pile of hair he’s holding. Four sets of eyes light up, and the girls abandon their own braids and guide Lance over to an unpopulated corner of the town. He sits on the ground, legs crossed and smile bright, as the girls get to work.

The four get into the rhythm as they work in tandem to style Lance’s locks. They begin with two small braids at the back of his head that lead into the grand master braid. Within that braid, the girls create miniature ones throughout the whole. One girl runs off as the other three continue to braid and braid and braid until every inch of loose hair has been set into the twisted silver ponytail. The young girl returns with a basket full of a variety of flowers—all different species, sizes, and colors. They distribute the flowers throughout the entire length of Lance’s hair, from the bottom where it’s tied to right in front of his ears.

“And… done!” one of the girls announces. Lance stands with his completed braid, the end tickling his ankles. His hair reflects the plethora of flowers planted throughout the ponytail, making the locks shine a rainbow of colors. Lance turns his head back to examine the braid and smiles from ear to ear at the girls’ work. He laughs as he twirls in place, causing the braid dance around his body.

“Thank you all so much!” Lance says as he crouches down to match their heights. The girls all jump into Lance, collectively giving him a big hug. Lance laughs as he stumbles back and falls on his butt as they all pile on top of him. Nevertheless, he returns the embrace wholeheartedly.

Lance turns back to his group to find Keith staring at him, his mouth agape as his eyes look him up and down. Lance tilts his head to the side, confused by his fixation, and Red nudges her head into Keith to knock him out of his gaze.

“Hey—what was that for!” Keith stammers. Red faces him, then turns to Lance, then back to Keith. Keith seems to get the message as his face turns bright red. He pushes the horse’s snout away from his face and turns around. Lance skips back over to the group and throws his arms around Keith’s shoulders and Red’s neck.

“Alright, gang, let’s get a move on!” he exclaims. He grabs Keith’s wrist and whisks him off into town.

Lance drags Keith to every single stand in the market—fresh fruits, baked treats, scarves, shoes, flags, anything he could look at. Lance will be looking at a necklace one moment. Then in the next, a stand selling hats will catch his eye, and he’ll abandon whatever he’s doing to check it out.

Keith takes Lance to the library and shows him all kinds of books he’s never read before—history, geography, biology, a variety of nonfiction that he’s never known. Every time Lance finds a book that looks remotely interesting, he passes it to Keith. Soon, the stack in Keith’s arms becomes too heavy, and he drops the books to the floor. Keith’s face turns red from embarrassment, but Lance simply grins and guides him to the floor. He picks up the book nearest to him—one about world maps—opens it up to page one, and starts reading.

Keith buys Lance a miniature blue banner that’s stitched in white with the kingdom’s emblem—a large, elegant star with two crescents turned inward on either side of it. He rolls up his sleeves, borrows some chalk, and gets to work. He recreates the symbol using blues and greens, crafting an ocean within the design. Behind it, he lays a dark blue and purple background that wisps and curls at the edges. With the white chalk, he borders the symbol with many of the star constellations that he has memorized for years. The stars make the emblem dazzle as sky meets sea, the artwork becoming an abstract landscape. He stands to face Keith, looking for approval, but Keith is distracted by a bit of bright blue powder Lance managed to get on his nose. Keith reaches up and rubs it off with his thumb. Lance mumbles a thank you and turns back to admire his work

As the royal guards patrol the town, Keith will hastily pull Lance into an alley or hidden doorway to avoid being seen. And every time, they share as laugh, as if hiding from the guards had become a fun game of hide and seek and Lance and Keith are winning.

Keith suggests that they get something to eat at one of the stands, so him and Lance get in line at the bakery’s table. As they wait to order, Lance looks around, still taking in the atmosphere of the kingdom. As he explores, his eyes fall on a mosaic artwork of the royal family. In the portrait sits the king and queen, smiles warm and welcoming. Behind them stand two young boys, and on each of their arms stands a young girl, all sharing the same eyes as the queen. He sees a child with her mother place a flower on the fountain in front of the art.

“For the Lost Prince!” she says to her mother. Lance looks up from her to find in the center of the piece is a baby boy, one of brown skin, blue eyes, and silver hair, just like—

Lance’s thoughts are interrupted as the sudden sound of live music makes its way to his ears, the beautiful harmony of a flute, violin, and lute grabbing his attention. He follows the sound to the open square in town where people are gathering to listen to the musicians play.

The music pulls Lance under its spell, and he finds himself moving to the melody. He twirls in place with his hands flying outwards, braid flying carelessly through the air. He sees a little girl smile at him and bounce to the music, so he bows and holds out his hand, asking her to dance. She take it, and he leads her center-stage where the two spin together to the rhythm. Lance invites more people into the dance—adults, children, mothers, fathers, anyone who is willing to join him. The town square becomes a dance floor with everyone now moving to the music

When Keith has finished ordering the baguettes and cheese for lunch, he turns to find a crowd of people all spinning in unison, with Lance at the center. He rolls his eyes and smirks. Lance catches his eye and breaks from the center.

“Keith, hop in!” he encourages, waving his hand towards himself. Keith shakes his head and raises his hand, the gesture saying “I’m good.” He leans back against Red and continues to observe the dance. He wasn’t expecting Keith to say yes in the first place, but he still frowns, saddened at the declination. Red, though, grunts and bumps Keith with her hip right into the circle of people. Keith looks back unamused as a random woman takes his hand and pulls him in the dance. Lance’s frown disappears as Keith circles with the rest of the dancers.

Soon the townspeople are partnering up as they do-si-do from person to person, passing each other off with a smile and a swing in their step. Lance tries to maneuver through his partners to get himself closer to Keith, and Keith seems to be to doing the same. Lance is passed from woman to old man to child, every exchange getting him closer to the partner he desires. The dance finally allows them to get close, and Lance reaches out to Keith. Keith does the same in return, but both are cut off and whisked away by different partners. Lance turns back with an apologetic smile, and Keith just smiles and nods, a promise that they’ll together dance soon enough.

The music picks up, and the partners separate as the dancers return to twirling and spinning. The audience claps as they leap up in the air to the song and continue to spin around. The dancers join hands and move in and out of the center, formed together as one grand circle. As one circle of people moves out, another ducks under their joined arms and moves in.

The song is reaching its climax, and they return to partnering up again. Lance closes his eyes as he’s blindly tossed from dancer to dancer. He feels like he’s flying, as if he’s spinning through the clouds. He laughs and smiles as he twirls to the next partner, and Keith passes on to his. They both jump from person to person, inching closer to each other with every note.

The song is approaching its grand finale, and everyone is passed off to their final partner of the dance. Lance holds his arms out and spins as fast as he can, bare feet on fire as they hop and skip across the stone ground. He braces for impact with his final partner, and at the end of the dance, he finds his hand in Keith’s. He rests one hand on Keith’s waist while Keith lays one on his shoulder. They stand chest to chest, closer than ever before. They smile and stare in silence, breathing heavy as they relax from the dance. Standing this close, Lance is reminded of how precious Keith’s smile is. Without even realizing it, Lance moves his hand from Keith’s waist and places it on his jaw.

“Hi,” Lance says.

“Hi,” Keith says back.

Lance feels himself lean forward until someone shouts, “To the boats!”

Lance and Keith blink and look down at their tangled hands. They quickly let go and step away from each other. Lance laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck.

“So we should probably—”

“Yeah, we should—”

“The boats—”

“Right, boats—”

“Yeah—”

“Let’s go.”

The sun is now setting as everyone begins taking their spots to watch the lantern ceremony. Keith rents a boat and the two carry it to one of the piers, placing it in the lake. Keith steps in first, then offers his hand to Lance, carefully leading him into the craft so that it doesn’t shake. Lance sneakily brings the satchel (that he inconspicuously hooked onto Red’s saddle) onboard and places it under the bench of the gondola. As they both take their seats, and Blue sits on the post that holds the rope, Keith rows them out towards the castle. He even leaves some apples with Red before they depart which he (mostly) paid for himself.

“So where are you taking me, Mullet?” Lance asks.

“You’re gonna wanna be nicer to me if you want a good seat for the ceremony,” Keith teases. Lance shuts up and grins at him.

Keith rows them to a spot where the entire castle as well as the town is clear as day. Much larger ships float in the water with them, holding tons of passengers eagerly awaiting the commemoration to begin. It’s dusk now, and Lance and Keith sit in silence as they rest their arms on the edge of the boat and take in the castle’s silhouette.

Lance should be excited right now; he’s about to experience the one thing he’s wanted his whole life. He _should_ be excited, yet a big part of him is just—terrified. There is this fear of disappointment underneath all of his hopes, a fear that all the risks he’s taken will be pointless. But it’s more than the fear of being let down. There’s something more to it than just disappointment: the fear of no longer having purpose. Keith seems to pick up on his worries when turns to Lance as his eyebrows furrow.

“Hey, are you okay?” he prods.

“I—” Lance hesitates. “Keith, for the past eighteen years of my life, my only interactions with the outside world have been through a tiny window in a giant tower. For eighteen years, I’ve been _dreaming_ of what it’d be like to see these lanterns in person. What if—” he pauses, afraid that the answer to his next question is not the answer he wants, and turns to Keith. “What if it’s nothing like I expect it to be? What if this whole journey turns out to be for nothing?”

“It won’t be. I promise,” Keith reassures.

“And what if I _do_ love it? A life-long dream fulfilled, and then what? What do I do then?”

Keith mulls over his question before he gives an answer. “I think… I think you move forward, and you look for a new dream. And that’s not such a bad thing,” he ends with a smirk.

Lance smiles back. “No, no it’s not.”

There’s some spare time before the ceremony begins, so Lance and Keith casually chat as they wait. Keith tells Lance stories about some of his many heists as a thief, several moments sounding suspiciously over-exaggerated for entertainment purposes, but Lance never calls him out on it. He also tells Lance about the bandit trio in the canyon that was after him, their names Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid, and how they sometimes would conspire for more high-stakes crimes. Lance tells Keith about how he met Blue, how he actually had saved her life from a venomous snake that had been chasing her (“I’ve known how to use a frying pan since I was eight years old, Keith!”). The talk turns to silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s nice actually, especially considering the crazy day and a half the two have had. Lance starts mindlessly plucking some of the flowers from his hair and gently places them into the lake, watching them elegantly skate across the water. He offers some flowers to Keith, and soon they’re both planting flowers into the harbor.

As Lance places another yellow daisy head into the water, he sees a glowing dot flying in the reflection. His eyes goes wide as his head snaps up toward the sky. There, in the distance is the first lantern. And not far behind are the other four that always followed. Lance speedily stands, causing the whole gondola to shake and Keith to fall off the bench, and makes his way to the front of the boat. He stands and latches onto the post attached to the bow, getting as close to the sky as he could possibly get. The ceremony has begun.

Not long after do more lanterns rise. A cluster of them fly into the sky from outside of the castle. Soon after, they’re flying up from the town. And then, the passengers on the large ships are releasing hundreds more. In every direction Lance looks, he sees countless lanterns in the air, like fireflies dancing in the sky. Shades of red, pink, orange, yellow, all consume the midnight blue sky. Lance almost hits himself for being worried that this would be anything less than amazing. It’s… more than he could ever imagine.

Lance rests his cheek against the post as he watches the lanterns fly overhead. Their warmth embraces his whole body, and he feels more secure than he’s felt in the past few days. Maybe more secure than he’s felt his whole life. But when he thinks about it, he’s not sure he owes that feeling entirely to the lanterns.

Lance suddenly has the urge to turn around where he finds Keith holding two lanterns, one in each hand. Lance excitedly takes a seat back on the bench and reaches to grab a lantern, but he stops himself, opting to do something else first.

“I wanna give you something first,” Lance starts. He bends under his seat and grabs the satchel. “You know, at first I was really scared to give this to you ‘cause I thought you’d maybe leave or something, but now… now I’m not scared anymore. You get what I mean?”

Keith puts a hand to the satchel and pushes it down to the floor. “I’m starting to.”

He hands the lantern to Lance. They nod to each other and release them at the same time. The cylinders dance around each other as they ascend into the air. The other lanterns begin to lose altitude, and they snow down over their boat.

“Keith, look!” Lance calls, wiggling his hand in front of his face to get his attention. Lance sticks his tongue out and leans over the boat, arm reaching out to catch a lantern floating towards the water. He cheers as he successfully grabs it and tosses it back into the air. He laughs as he lowers his hand back into his lap and watches the lantern rise once more.

 

 

 

“Keith, look!”

He can’t look. Whatever Lance wants him to look at, he can’t. Because his eyes refuse to look away from Lance. They may be surrounded by lanterns, but Lance is the only light he sees. Lance is a light and Keith is a moth, hopelessly attracted to it. Lance is the sun, and Keith is revelling in his warmth.

Lance is reaching over the boat for a falling lantern, stretching as far as he can without tipping the balance. The light reflects in his eyes, creating constellations over those blue oceans. His smile is blinding, yet Keith stares even closer. Lance returns the captured lantern into the sky, laughing all the while. The beautiful sound sets Keith’s heart over the edge, and he grabs Lance’s hand before he can stop himself.

Lance’s eyes go wide at the contact, and his head whips from the lanterns to Keith. Keith doesn’t even try to hide how smitten he is as he stares adoringly at him, a wide grin crossing his face. Lance’s expression melts into something just as sweet, and he grabs Keith’s other hand and pulls him closer. Their eyes lock as they lose themselves in each other’s gaze.

Keith forgets about the crown. He forgets about the deal. He forgets about Red and the guards that will surely come after him tomorrow because the only thing that matters right now is that he’s holding onto Lance, and he’s never letting go.

Keith finds himself leaning forward, and Lance follows suit. He removes one hand from Lance’s hold and gently pushes a fallen bang behind Lance’s ear. His hand slides from his ear and cups his cheek. Lance leans into the touch and inches closer, eyes fluttering shut. Keith moves forward, about to close the distance, when a bright violet light from the shore catches his attention.

He peers over Lance’s shoulder and spots three figures. He squints to inspect further, and he makes out the silhouettes of Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid. The three make eye contact with him, Acxa nods to her right, and then walk out of sight.

Lance notices the long pause and opens his eyes. “Uh, Keith? Is everything alright?” he asks worriedly. He follows Keith’s gaze to the shore.

“Uh—yeah, yeah everything’s—everything’s fine I just…” he trails off as he looks to the satchel. Keith removes his hands from Lance, already feeling colder at the loss of contact, grabs the ores, and quickly rows them to the shore. When they arrive, he swiftly jumps out of the boat and grabs the bag.

“Everything is okay, I swear. I just need to do something,” he says, cupping Lance’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Lance holds the hand against his cheek and looks down at the satchel, eyebrows furrowed. Then he looks back Keith, searching for any lies in his eyes.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be right back.” He his hand falls from Lance’s cheek, and he walks away from the gondola.

Not far from the boat does he find the trio sitting against some rocks on the shore. The sound of Keith’s feet crunching against gravel grabs their attention, and they look up at him. He holds the satchel in front of his chest.

“Here. Take it,” he says sharply. “You can do whatever you want with it. I’m out.” He tosses the purse to Ezor who removes the crown to inspect it. Keith turns to leave until he hears her giggle.

“Aww, how cute. He thinks he can just give us the crown and run away,” Ezor comments mockingly. Keith furrows his brows as Ezor makes a show of dropping the crown to the ground.

“We’ve received some new intel. Word is you’re in possession of something worth much more than the crown,” Acxa states. The three stalk him slowly, and Keith starts to reach for his blade. “We want him.”

Keith looks down, confused, until he realizes who _him_ is. _No…_ But before he can do anything about it, he sees black.

 

 

 

Minutes pass, and Lance stands leaning against the boat, stroking his braid frantically. In the distance, he spots someone’s silhouette walking towards him. Lance lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding in.

“ _Phew_ , Keith, buddy, you had me for a minute there. I thought you ran away with the crown or something.”

But soon, one silhouette splits into three, and the thieves—Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid—emerge from the fog and approach Lance.

“He did,” Zethird replies wickedly.

“What?”

Ezor gestures out into the harbor where one small sailboat floats in the distance. There, clear as day, stands Keith, both hands on the steering wheel, as he rides away from the shore.

In a matter of seconds, Lance’s heart shatters to pieces. This whole time he’s been so afraid of trusting Keith because he feared that the minute Keith got the crown, he’d leave. Hell, that’s what this whole thing’s about anyway, right? That’s the deal they made, wasn’t it? But he fell for his act. Keith made himself vulnerable so that Lance would trust him, and it worked. Lance really liked Keith, and he thought Keith felt the same. Lance was maybe even starting to—it doesn’t matter anymore. Keith left. His mother was right. Keith _left._

“No…” is all he manages to get out, his voice now weak and broken. He leans against the boat for support, fearful that his knees will give out any second.

“Isn’t that a shame; he got the short end of the deal,” Ezor starts. “He got the crown, but we got the boy with the magic hair.”

Lance meets their gaze at those words, eye blown wide as Zethrid unfolds a large, empty sack in her hands. He runs.

He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where he’s going. But Lance runs. He sprints down the shore, gravel pinching his bare feet with every step. The sharp pokes sting, but he refuses to stop. He hops over a fallen tree trunk, but his braid gets caught on a protruding branch, reeling him back towards the thugs. Frantically, he tugs on the hair, hoping either the braid will come undone or the branch will snap.

“C’mon, c’mon!” he cries as he continues to heave, but it doesn’t budge. He’s about to start undoing the braid when suddenly he hear three grunts in the distance followed by three thumps to the ground. Lance promptly drops the ponytail and carefully extracts it from the branch.

“Lance?” he hears a familiar voice shout.

“...Mother?” he responds.

He cautiously turns the corner to find his mother standing above Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid, all three on the ground unconscious. She looks even older than their previous encounter, her hair basically white, skin gray and wrinkled.

“Lance, dear, you’re all right,” she says relieved.

“Mother…” he mutters. He swiftly crosses the distance and hugs her tightly. She gently strokes his head and brings him in close. “How did you find me?”

“I followed you to make sure you were safe, and then I saw those three corner you, and I had no choice but to step in,” she explains as she continues to pet his head. “Come now, before they regain consciousness.”

Lance starts to follow her but finds himself staring back towards the lake. The sight of Keith sailing away causes tears to well up in his eyes as he leaves him behind, heartbroken. He turns to his mother, who invites him into an embrace as she holds out both her arms. The gesture pushes his tears over the edge, and he runs into her arms, uncontrollably sobbing.

“You were r—right, mother. You were right about ev—everything,” he chokes out.

“I know, starlight. I know.”

 

——

 

Keith’s eyes flutter open as he feels himself being rocked back and forth jarringly.

“Lance?” he says, voice groggy. He hears yelling from somewhere above him. He goes to move but finds his body restricted. When he looks down, he sees his hands tied to the steering wheel of a sailboat, his torso tied to the mast. In his right hand wrapped with the ropes is the crown. How did he get here? Where is he? More importantly, where is Lance?

“Lance!” he shouts. He hears footsteps make their way towards him as several castle guards jump onto the boat and proceed to untie him, taking him in for themselves.

Keith thrashes against their grasps, but with four against one, he is overpowered.

“No, stop! You have to let me go! I—Lance!” he shouts towards the shore.

The guards throw Keith in a cell for the night, but he refuses to rest. Instead he paces, recounting the last things he remembers, how Lance and him were on the boat, how they were about to kiss, how Acxa, Ezor, and Zethird—oh, if they laid so much as a finger on Lance, they had another thing coming.

 

 

 

The next morning, Keith is still awake, his mind still thinking of Lance and hoping that he’s okay, that’s he’s safe. His thoughts are interrupted as his cell door opens, the captain of the guards standing in the threshold.

“Time to go,” he simply states.

“Go where?”

The guard says nothing, but Keith knows as he reaches up to rub his throat unbidden.

“Oh.”

The captain leaves, and two other guards handcuff him behind his back and escort him to the gallows. As they walk past each cell, Keith spots Acxa leaning against the bars inside of one of them. Infused with rage, Keith headbutts one guard and knocks the other against the opposite cell. He jumps, tucking his legs in as tightly as possible, and swings his arms in front of him. He grabs Acxa through the bars by her shirt and growls.

“How did you find out about Lance?! Who told you?!” he snarls.

“An old woman gave us the information,” she grunts.

“Old woman…wait—” Keith is interrupted as the captain and two new guards get a hold of him and drag him out of the prison.

“Stop! You have to let me go, he’s in trouble!” he pleads, but the guards ignore him and proceed to shove him forward.

 

——

 

Lance sits quietly on his bed as he lets his mother undo his magnificent braid. She removes the last few flower heads, places them in a basket, and stands.

“All gone,” she says. “Wash up for dinner. I’m making garlic knots,” she says with a bit more enthusiasm as she makes her way to the exit.

Lance keeps his eyes glued to the floor and doesn’t say a word.

“How many times did I warn you, dear? The outside world is unforgiving. The minute it finds even the slightest bit of light, it does everything in its power to put it out.” She shuts the curtains to his room and makes her way to the kitchen.

Lance looks down at his hands in his lap. He separates them, revealing the kingdom banner Keith had bought him, the stupid cloth that used to mean so much to him. Oh, who’s he kidding, it still means so much to him. The sight is enough to make his eyes sting with tears, the memories associated with it now tarnished. He falls on his back and holds the banner closely to his chest, doing his best to keep the tears from escaping his eyes.

He holds the cloth out in front of him, memorizing the symbol, then quickly lowers it back down to his chest, making way for him to look at the dozens of star charts he’s painted around his room. One spot near the roof catches his eye as he notices something… familiar. He raises the banner again, then lowers it, looking closer at the spot on the wall. He raises it once more, then drops it to his chest.

Lance stands up promptly and eyes the markings he made. He stares until he’s certain he makes in out—between the adjacent star charts lays the kingdom’s emblem, the star with the two crescents. He looks to another group of stars and finds the same thing. He turns his head to another and another, until he can point out tens of them in his room alone.

Lance suddenly thinks back to the kingdom. The mosaic of the royal baby looked just like—

And when he tried on the royal crown. It felt right. It—

The symbol, the portrait, the crown. They’re—he’s—

Lance stumbles backwards into his vanity, the collision knocking over his skin care products to the floor and flipping the mirror into the wall. He stumbles over to his bed as he tries to process this revelation.

_I’m the Lost Prince._

“Lance?” Honerva calls from downstairs. “What are you doing in there?”

_I’m the Lost Prince._

She makes her way up the stairs. “Are you all right?”

_I’m the Lost Prince._

Lance opens the curtains to his room and stands in the threshold.

“I’m the Lost Prince,” he mutters.

“Lance, what did I tell you about mumbling? It—”

“ _I am the Lost Prince._ Aren’t I?” he asserts.

His mother stares at him in bewilderment, a look he’s never seen from her before. That look confirmed everything.

“Did you catch that this time, mother? Or should I even call you that?” he asks with disgust.

Honerva quickly returns to her intimidating demeanor, as if she had never been caught off guard in the first place. She makes her way towards Lance. “I don’t know what on Earth gave you that idea, but—”

“Stop acting like I haven’t figured it out. Like I don’t know that everything—all of this—is because of _you!_ ” he retaliates. Honerva looks down on him.

“All I’ve done was keep you safe.”

Lance scoffs and shoves past her, making his way towards the window.

“Eighteen years I spent trapped in this _stupid_ tower so that no one would ever take advantage of me—”

“Lance—!”

“When the only person who did was _you!_ ” he turns to her intensely, gaze boring through her head.

“So what will you do now? Run away to that locked up criminal?”

“Locked up—what did you to him?!” Lance demands.

“That dirty thief is going to be hanged for his crimes.”

Lance’s heart drops. Even after everything, the thought of losing Keith for good is too much. He has to stop this. He has to save him. He—

“Lance, starlight, this is how things were meant to be,” she begins as she steps in front of him, blocking his way to the exist. She goes to pat his head. “Go back to your room and—”

_“No!”_

Lance grabs her outstretched wrist and holds it in the air with all his might.

“I am _leaving_ this tower, I am _saving_ Keith, and I am getting as _far away from you as possible!”_ he yells. She removes herself from his death-like grip and stumbles backwards. Lance takes one last look, and strides towards the window. Honerva regains her balance and stands tall, a sinister look crossing her face.

“You are going to regret what you’ve just done.”

 

——

 

Keith struggles against the two guards that hold his arms down as they follow the captain to the place of execution. They make their way through another hallway, and as they reach the end, the door to the next room shuts and locks in front of them. The other doors in the room do the same. Keith and the guards look around in confusion.

“Open this door!” the captain commands as he bangs his fist on the wood. There’s a clicking noise as the eye-level window unlocks and slides open revealing— _Matt?_

“Password,” he deadpans.

“Excuse me?”

“Nope.”

“Open up, immediately!”

“You’ve gotta try harder than that.” Matt slides the window closed.

“You have three seconds before I break down this door!” the captain threatens and begins counting.

“One!” Suddenly, the guard on Keith’s left in yanked into an opening in the ceiling.

“Two!” The door next to the guard on Keith’s right opens, and two pairs of hands drag him inside.

“Three...” the captain trails off, turning around to find his back-up had disappeared. Keith offers a small wave.

The door in front opens and out walks Hunk holding a frying pan. He nervously raises the pain and swiftly swings it down onto the captain’s head, effectively knocking him unconscious.

“Oh my god, I didn’t kill that guy, right? I’m too young to go to jail!” Hunk panics.

“Hunk, he’s fine! How did you—” Before Keith’s question can get answered, five new guards burst into the room, swords in hand.

“Time to go!” Hunk spits and pulls Keith’s arm forward to guide him to an exit. The guards chase the two down the hallways as they navigate through the prison. They turn a corner and see Allura and Romelle standing in the hall, weapons in hand.

“Keith, go on ahead. We’ll handle this,” Allura assures.

“Go rescue Lance!” Romelle shouts. Keith nods to them both and mouths a thank you as he and Hunk press forward. “All right, babe, let’s show them what we can do,” Romelle says as she extends the staff in her hand.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Allura replies as she cracks her whip.

The couple charges towards the guards, battle cries loud and clear as the dive right into the action.

Hunk and Keith make it outside into the courtyard where they find some sort of fancy catapult set up. Next to it stands Pidge and Coran who immediately spot them and gesture them over. The two sprint toward the duo just as guards begin filing into the courtyard.

“Okay, Keith, you have approximately forty seven seconds before you get caught by the guards, so let’s make this quick. If my calculations are right, the settings on this catapult will land you exactly onto Red’s saddle, assuming she is standing in the right place.”

“But—”

“No time!” Coran jumps in. “You’ve got a boy to save! Now hop inside!” Keith obliges as he hastily climbs the contraption. “Good, now tuck your arms in, keep your head down, and spread your knees apart.”

“Knees apart?”

“Just do it!”

“Okay!”

Keith matches the pose, and Pidge goes to the lever.

“Go get him, Keith,” she says.

“I will,” he nods.

Pidge pulls the lever, and Keith is flying through the air, the sensation much more terrifying than he imagined. But, Pidge was absolutely correct, for his finds himself landing right onto Red’s saddle as she sits on top of one of the castle’s outdoor pathways. Keith opens his eyes to find the horse looking back at him.

“Red, did you bring them here?” he asks. Red nods, and Keith pets her neck. “How did you know I was here, though?” Red gestures to the boats in the harbor, and he spots a sailboat with rope scattered across the floor—the one he was tied to. She must’ve seen him get taken in last night.

“Good horse. Now, let’s go.” Keith whips the reins, and Red shoots off towards the edge. He thinks he should be worried about jumping off such a high building, but there’s no time to worry when Lance needed him.

Red leaps from the tower and lands on a shoppe’s roof. She slides down the tiles and elegantly lands back in the floor in the middle of town. There are a few gasps from the townspeople, but Keith pays them no mind as he keeps his eyes focused on the forest in the distance. Red makes it to the bridge, and Keith bends closer to her head.

“All right, Red, let’s see how fast you can go.” Like the crack of a whip, Red shoots across the bridge and into the forest. Keith does his best to remember the way he had ran from the guards when he escaped with the crown. He successfully guides Red to the leaf curtain, and she gallops through the tunnel. They reach the base of the tower, and Keith hops off of Red and looks up.

“Lance!” he calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Lance, it’s me, Keith!”

There’s no response. Keith curses under his breath and begins to climb the tower with his bare hands. He doesn’t get far before he hears the unlocking of a window from above.

He looks up and finds the long stream of silver spill from the window. Keith lets out the biggest sigh of relief. He grabs onto the hair and climbs to the top as fast as he can. In record time, he reaches the window and hops inside.

“Lance, you’re okay. You’re—“ he abruptly stops when he looks up to find Lance on the ground, hands chained to a post and mouth gagged with a bandana. He tries to shout something through the cloth, but Keith can’t comprehend his screams. He starts towards Lance and—

Keith howls as something sharp is plunged into his back. The pain is burning hot, spreading throughout his whole body. It’s too much. He falls to the ground as he hears Lance scream even louder, chains jostling loudly behind him. Keith looks up to see Lance’s mother standing over him. His vision becomes a little fuzzy.

 

 

 

Lance feels ice cold as he stares at Keith at Honerva’s feet, blood already seeping through his clothes. He pulls the chains against the post, but they won’t budge in the slightest.

“Now look what you made me do, Lance,” Honerva says wickedly as she shows off her knife to him, the blade now coated in blood. Lance continues to wail and cry and struggle against his cuffs, his eyes staying glued to Keith. “A pity, but it had to be done. Now he can’t follow us to where we’re going, as won’t anyone else.

Honerva walks behind Lance and unknots his chains from the post. Lance tries to dash over to Keith’s side, but Honerva holds a tight grip on his chains. He doesn’t stop, though, as he thrashes and squirms and does whatever he can to be released from her grip. He has to see Keith. He has to help Keith.

“Enough!” she shouts, but it only makes Lance try harder. “Stop resisting!”

In one final attempt, Lance throws his body towards the ground, effectively sliding down the bandana from his mouth to his chin and escaping Honerva’s grasp, only temporarily, though, as she swiftly grabs the chain links back.

“I’ll never stop. As long as you have me, I will not stop trying to run,” he retorts. But then he turns his head to Keith who is breathing heavily and barely moving on the ground, the hand over his chest wound covered in his blood.

“But,” Lance starts, “if you let me heal him, I’ll go with you. And I won’t fight. I won’t try to run away. Things will be just like they’ve always been,” he proposes.

Honerva eyes him with distrust, and Lance just looks back with pleading eyes. He can’t let Keith die.

“I promise. Just let me heal him.”

Honerva hesitates but then relinquishes her grasp on Lance’s chains and unlocks the handcuffs. She cuts the knot of the bandana with her knife and removes it from his face. Lance is about to sprint to Keith until he finds Honerva already ahead of him, the set of handcuffs in her hands.

She knots the chains around a new post and cuffs Keith’s right hand. “In case you get any ideas about following us,” she spits with malice as she tosses his bloodied hand back to him. As soon as she backs off, Lance darts to side and gets down on his knees.

“Keith! Oh my god, Keith, I—“ Lance stops as he spots the wound, blood having already spread throughout Keith’s once-white shirt. Keith coughs as Lance sits him up against the post. How did he let this happen?

“Keith, I—I’m so sorry. But everything’s gonna be fine, buddy, just keep breathing for me.”

“Lance—”

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?”

“No, Lance—”

“Keith, just—”

“I can’t let you do this.”

Keith stares into Lance’s eyes, and Lance stares into Keith, violet meeting blue. Even as he’s dying, Keith’s eyes remain so bright, the storm of purple sending bolts of lightning to his heart. Even with Keith’s current state, Lance can’t help but grin at his beauty.

“And I can’t let you die.”

He cups Keith’s cheek, rubbing it tenderly with his thumb.

“Lance,” Keith begs. “I—I can’t lose you, too.” Lance continues to hold his cheek and shushes him sweetly.

“Hey. It’s gonna be okay,” he replies simply.

Lance removes his hand from Keith’s cheek to gather his hair for wrapping, and Keith whines at the loss of contact. As Lance goes to cover the wound, Keith shakily reaches out to him.

“Lance?” he says weakly as he tucks some fallen hair behind Lance’s ear.

“Yeah?” he responds and leans in towards Keith.

Their noses are almost touching, and Lance’s gaze moves from Keith’s eyes to his lips. He wants nothing more than to kiss him right now. A kiss to say “Thank you.” A kiss to say “I love you.” A kiss to say “I’ll miss you.”

Lance is about to close the distance when suddenly, Keith sits up fast and grabs all his hair behind his head. Lance leans back at the sudden movement and spies Keith’s blade in his other hand.

Time moves in slow motion as Keith swings his blade and slashes through Lance’s hair, cutting every strand and unchaining him from all seventy feet of silver.

Keith lets go of the hair and his blade and falls back against the post.

“Keith, what did you—!” Lance reaches behind his head to feel curly tendrils across the surface. His roots change from bright silver to soft brunet in an instant.

“ _No!_ ” Honerva shouts from behind. “What have you done!” She runs to collect the river of hair, but even that turns brown, the color quickly spreading throughout the entire length. Honerva’s body begins rapidly aging as her skin turns to wrinkles and her hair turns white. “You fool! What have you done!”

She looks in a mirror and is horrified by her appearance. She tries to cover herself in her cloak, hiding her physique from the world. Her body continues to rapidly age as she looks for an escape. She backs up towards the window, but her heel gets caught on Lance’s cut-hair. She trips and falls out the window.

When her body makes contact with the ground, only ash and dust is found with her cloak, her body finally having caught up with her true age.

Lance breathes heavily as he processes the events that just unravelled. He pushes his hair back and remembers that he no longer had his long silver hair. But without it, that meant—

Lance turns to Keith who has ceased all movement. Lance picks his head up and cradles it in his lap.

“No, no, no, no, no, Keith. C’mon,” he begs, patting his arm. “We gotta fix you up, buddy. Stay with me.” Lance grabs Keith’s hand and puts it on top of his hair. Keith stirs and coughs.

_“Flower from above. Shine as bright as day—”_

“Lance—”

_“Undo what’s been done. Come take this pain away—”_

“Lance—!”

“What?!” Lance chokes out. Tears roll down his cheeks as his hair remains dull atop his head. He holds Keith’s hand with all his might and looks down at him, his eyes barely open anymore. Keith slowly moves his hand to Lance’s cheek.

“You were my new dream,” he whispers.

Lance holds his breath.

“...And you were mine.”

Keith’s hand gradually leaves Lance’s cheek and falls to the ground. He looks as if he’s about to say one last thing, but his head goes limp in Lance’s lap. Keith’s stuttered breathing stops. He doesn’t move.

Lance stares down at his motionless body, mind void of all thoughts and emotions. Lance stares at the one thing that mattered to him, now lost. Lance stares as he sits on the cold floor of a cold tower that insists that Lance remain alone for the rest of his days.

Despite it not working, Lance finishes the incantation.

“ _Mend what’s been broken.”_

Lance gently brushes Keith’s bangs out of his face to take one last look at him.

_“Fix without delay.”_

Lance’s hand slides down to Keith’s jaw, and he carefully turns his head towards him.

_“Return what once was.”_

Lance caresses Keith’s jaw as he memorizes all of his beautiful features.

_“Come take this pain away.”_

Lance rests his forehead against Keith’s.

 _“_ P—please take it away.”

Any attempt Lance makes to hold back his tears fails as he weeps over Keith’s lifeless body. Aside from his cries, the entire tower is silent. His cut hair wraps around the common room, resting on the floor as nothing more now than a reminder of his past. Even with the summer air coming through the window, Lance feels numb.

A tear falls onto Keith’s cheek and seeps into his skin. Underneath the flesh glows a subtle, blue light. The light brightens and creates a star-like shape, ends fading outward as if being blown away by the wind. The light on his cheek fades, and a much louder one appears from his chest.

Even through closed eyelids, Lance can see the light emitting from Keith’s wound. He perks his head up to find tendrils of bright cyan sprouting form the spot. They grow and spread outward, surrounding the two in a vortex of blue. Light beams wrap around Lance’s whole body, but he keeps his eyes glued to Keith’s wound.

Suddenly, the light from the wound transforms into a big star, covering the gash entirely, and slowly spins in place. Even as the rays of light all around start to dull, returning the tower to its state of darkness and cold, the star remains bright. The star then transforms into a ball of blue and slowly lowers back down to Keith’s chest, softly sinking in.

Lance hurriedly grabs the hem of Keith’s shirt and lifts it up. He feels the area where he had been attacked and finds only smooth skin. He whips his head back to face Keith. At first, there’s no movement, but then he sees Keith’s eyes flutter open.

“...Lance?” he grumbles.

“Keith…”

Keith’s eyes move from Lance’s face to over his shoulder.

“Heh, looks like I’m not the only one with a mullet,” he scoffs. Lance bites his lip and smiles. _He’s alive._

“Keith!” he cheers, wrapping his arms around his neck and laughing carelessly as he clumsily flips their positions. He holds Keith close to his shoulder, cradling the back of his head with one arm. Keith holds himself up from the floor with one arm and wraps the other behind Lance’s back. He pulls Lance as close to him as humanly possible, and Lance knows it’s a promise to never leave again.

Lance backs away and grabs Keith’s face with both his hands. He takes in those gorgeous purple eyes. He takes in that amazing smile. Going even minutes without seeing either was torture to him. But now, Keith’s okay. He’s alive. He’s with Lance.

Lance laughs as he surges forward, hastily pressing his lips to Keith’s. Keith jerks back in surprise but smiles. He angles his head to properly slot his lips with Lance’s, closing his eyes at the contact. Fireworks go off in Lance’s head as Keith leans into the kiss, a hand playing with his new curls as he gently wraps it behind Lance’s neck. Lance giggles at the tender touch and deepens the kiss, bringing Keith’s face as close to him as possible.

It’s funny, Lance thinks, how his storybooks had always made love out to be such an easy thing to spot. Funny how he grew up thinking that the minute he saw the love of his life, he’d know. But love is much more complicated than that. It’s slow, subtle, you don’t even see it coming. And it’s not easy; it’s painful. Because as much as loving Keith has made Lance happier than he’s ever been before, loving him brought so much pain. Almost losing Keith brought him so much pain. The mere thought of having to spend the rest of his life without Keith brought him so much pain. But, god, now that he had Keith here with him, nestled close in his arms, Lance has never felt so safe.

 

He has his new dream.

 

——

 

The king and queen of Altea sit in the castle’s study. The queen distracts herself with a book while the king stands in front of a balcony door, looking out onto his kingdom.

Suddenly, a guard bursts through the doors, grabbing both of their attention. They look to the guard, asking what the urgency is. The guard simply smiles and nods. The king queen and king’s eyes go wide as they look at each other.

The queen orders the guard to fetch the rest of their children while she and her husband swiftly make their way to the main balcony. Almost childishly, they sprint down the corridors to the doors, but they had no time to worry about appearances. They found him.

The king and queen look to each other before they open the doors. They nod and face the barrier, the only thing separating them from him.

The queen pushes the doors open to find a couple holding hands on the balcony, backs facing the them. The creek of the doors grabs their attention, and the two turn around to face the king and queen.

One of them steps forwards—a tall boy with tan skin, blue eyes, and a pointed nose. His hair isn’t silver but rather a shade of brunet. He looks at them and slowly smiles, eyebrows upturned with nervousness.

The queen takes the first steps as she slowly approaches him to get a better look. He’s about to walk towards her as well, but decides to stay put where he is. At the closer proximity, she finds that he has several inches over her. She eyes him curiously as she studies his face. His skin is just as dark as her husband’s. His eyes are the same as those of her other four children. His nose has that same hook upwards that she had. His hair is the same shade as hers.

The queen cups his face and brings him in closer as the tears build up in her eyes. The boy matches her expression, his own eyes becoming glossy. She smiles and lets out a short breathe. He smiles back. It’s him. It’s _Lance._

The queen chuckles as she pulls him into a tight embrace, nuzzling her head into his chest. He lets out a sigh of relief and hugs her back, snuggling his face into her voluminous brown curls. He holds her close and tight, and he can feel all the loves she sends him simply through the contact.

Lance looks up at the king who has begun crying as well, and he joins into the hug. Chatter comes from the balcony doors as the king and queen's four other children stand in the threshold. Lance looks up to see the rest of the royal family—his brothers and sisters —all staring at him in bewilderment. The tears come faster, but his smile grows wider as they tackle and wrap him in one big hug. And that’s how they lay, the royal family whole once more after eighteen painful years, together in each other’s arms on the ground.

The queen looks up to the other boy to find that it had been Shiro, the wanted criminal. She panics, but only for a moment as she follows his loving gaze to her youngest son. She clears her throat, causing him to snap out of his daze. He eyes her sheepishly which makes her laugh. _This softy is a notorious thief?_ She removes one hand from the hug and offers it to him. He kindly takes it, but stumbles as the queen pulls him into the embrace with more force than he was expecting.

And they stay like that for a while, for the Lost Prince has finally come home.

 

**1 year later**

 

“Your Highness! Are you ready?” a man shouts from outside Lance’s door.

“In a minute!” Lance replies as he finishes buttoning up his shirt. He checks his appearance in the mirror and smiles. His first birthday home with his family. His _real_ family.

“How do I look, Blue?” He looks to the chameleon who sits on the vanity. Blue makes a noise of approval. “Aww, Blue, you’re too kind.”

He jumps up from his stool and makes his way to the door when someone clears their throat.

“Forgetting something?” A voice says smugly. Lance turns around to see Keith with his arms crossed, dangling Lance’s crown from his finger. Lance had been so caught up with his excitement that he completely forgot about his boyfriend waiting in his room for him to finish getting ready.

“Oops.”

Lance reaches for the crown, but Keith yanks it away from him.

“Did you think it’d be so easy to steal back from a thief?” he teases. Lance tries to act annoyed but fails, amused by Keith’s cute little game.

“Okay then. How about a trade?”

“What do you have?”

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Kiss me.”

Lance grabs Keith by his tunic and dips him towards the ground. Red was definitely a good color on Keith, but this black tunic really brought out the violet in his eyes. Lance shakes his head and laughs fondly. Keith raises his head and Lance meets him in the middle as they share a tender kiss. A year of this, and Lance’s heart still flutters like it’s the first time. Blue grumbles at the affection and makes her way to her tiny bed that sits on the windowsill.

“Your Highness!” the man shouts again.

“Coran, we’re coming!”

Lance stands Keith back up and bows his head, inviting him to place the crown atop his curls. Keith does so then kisses his forehead.

“Let’s go, _Your Highness_ ,” Keith mocks. He laces his hand with Lance’s and tugs him towards the door, but Lance’s feet remain planted to the ground. Keith eyes him curiously, but Lance just smiles sweetly, getting one more good look at his beautiful boyfriend before the two get preoccupied with the night’s celebration.

“You know,” Lance starts. “I think if Takashi Shirogane saw you today, he’d be very proud of you.”

“You really think so?” Keith asks.

“I know so,” he affirms sweetly.

They share one more kiss before they make their way out into the hallway where they meet Coran who has his hands on his hips and is tapping his foot impatiently.

“About time! The festivities are about to begin, and you especially are expected to be there on time,” Coran reprimands.

“Coran, you’re my royal advisor, not my babysitter. I’ve got it under control. And plus, there is _no_ way I’d let myself be late to this.”

“Well I’d hope so! Allura and Romelle are returning from the kingdom of Olkari today in honor of you, and Hunk has prepared quite the meal! I’ve also been informed that Pidge and Matt have been working on some special fireworks for later this evening. And of course there’s the lantern ceremony to close the night.”

Lance smiles at his words. All his friends making time just to celebrate his birthday—it’s all just too good to be true. He squeezes Keith’s hand tighter with glee.

“Sounds perfect.”

Coran escorts them outside where Lance’s family awaits them on the balcony. Keith hangs back in the doorway as he pushes Lance to join them. Lance gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and walks over to his parents, brothers, and sisters with a smile.

Lance is brought to the front of the balcony, standing in between the king and queen, looking out onto all their subjects. Lance has done this numerous times since returning home, but having all eyes on him still makes him anxious. His mother clears her throat to gather the kingdom’s attention and begins to speak.

“Nineteen years ago today, we lost our son. This loss left a hole in our family, a hole in our kingdom, and a hole in our hearts. But we never gave up, as we continued to release the lanterns every year, in hopes that he’d see the light and follow it. We prayed every day that our Lost Prince would return home.

“One year ago, our prayers were answered. Our son, Lance, found his way back to us. He filled the hole as he reclaimed his spot as a prince of Altea. And ever since then, he has done nothing but show kindness, selflessness, and joy to everyone in the kingdom. I am proud to see him represent Altea, and I am even prouder to call him my son.

“Today, we are gathered to celebrate Lance’s nineteenth birthday, his first official birthday home. We are grateful to have him here with us, and we look forward to many more celebrations with him.”

The people applaud and cheer as the queen finishes her speech. Lance beams at the crowd then back at his family. The love he feels is overwhelming, and it generates a fit a laughter out of him. As soon as he hears the musicians start playing, he makes a break for the town square. He pauses, remembering that he’s a prince now and can’t just run off whenever he pleases. He looks to his parents who just smile and nod, giving him permission to go. Lance grabs Keith, and the two descend down the stairs.

As is Lance’s speciality, he starts off the first dance of the night, inviting everyone from the kingdom to join in the circle. Soon enough, the whole town is clapping and jumping to the tune, with Lance and Keith in the center. Lance, as always, leads Keith in the dance as he spins his love out and back in. He pauses, though, as he feels a tap on this shoulder.

“Excuse me, Prince Lance, but may I have this dance?” a woman asks.

Lance turns around to find Allura with her hand held out. He notices that it’s her left hand, the one bearing her wedding band. She’s been showing that thing off ever since the day Romelle placed it on her finger.

“Allura!” he shouts and he pulls her into an embrace. “Thanks so much for coming! Where’s Romelle?”

“Oh, she has to just quickly debrief with the captain of the guards about the trip, telling him about any suspicious activity she may have noticed while on duty and whatnot. She’ll be joining us soon enough.” She turns her focus to Keith. “Hello, _Shiro,_ ” she teases.

He rolls his eyes and chuckles. “C’mon, Allura, you know I’ve left my time as a thief behind me,” he corrects. She just shakes her head and pulls him into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” She goes behind him places both hands on his shoulders. “Lance, may I borrow your love for a moment?”

“Sure thing, but not for _too_ long, okay? I’m not finishing this dance without him,” he states, waggling his finger at her.

“Of course. Be right back!” She grins widely and hurriedly shoves him aside. Lance eyes them for a moment, suspicious of their conversation. He goes to rejoin the dance until he hears a high pitched squeal come from Allura followed by a loud “Shhh!” from Keith. He sees Allura with both her hands hugging her cheeks, staring down in amazement at something Keith is holding that Lance can’t see from his angle. She then proceeds to pull Keith into a tight hug, saying something in his ear that Lance can’t make out. For the time being, he regards the exchange as nothing to worry about and resumes dancing.

Later in the evening, Hunk personally delivers the plates of appetizers and drinks he’s prepared to town. Every single dish he brings out is more delicious than the last, and the food is gone within minutes. As if the food couldn’t get better, dinner proves that wrong as Hunk has prepared an exquisite dish of his own take on filet mignon with a side of grilled vegetables. He even remembers to make Lance his favorite (“Buddy, these garlic knots are like eating warm, buttery clouds. I don’t know how you do it.”). Hunk also makes Red an apple dessert, a well deserved reward for all the hard work she’s be doing snooping out criminals.

After dinner, the fireworks begin as Pidge and Matt launch some new rockets that they’ve been working on. The fireworks are more grand than any the kingdom has launched before, as trails of gold and silver rain down through the sky as they explode. The crowd “ooh”s and “aah”s after every burst of color in the sky. Lance stands with Keith’s chest against his back as they watch the sky rain stardust, but Lance occasionally watches how the light reflects in Keith’s eyes, creating a galaxy with every new explosion.

Finally, it’s time for the moment the whole kingdom has been waiting for. The king, queen, Veronica, Luis, Marco, Rachel, and lastly, Lance, make their way out onto the main balcony, the children each holding a lantern. Veronica lights hers and passes the flame down the line. Each child lights their lantern, with Lance lighting his last. They all look to each other, awaiting for someone to make the first move. When the queen and king offer their nod of approval, Veronica releases her lantern first. Luis follows, as does Marco and then Rachel. After Rachel’s lantern take flight, the king and queen look to Lance, unable to measure how truly grateful and blessed they are for having him back into their lives. Lance returns their gaze and smiles. He look down at the bottom of the stairs to see Pidge, Matt, Hunk, Allura, Romelle, and Keith all smiling at him as they hold their own lanterns. Lance closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and lets go.

The night comes to an end, and Lance says goodnight to his kingdom, his companions, and his family, thanking them all for making this the best birthday he’s ever had. Coran finds Lance to take him back to his room, but Keith offers to do it instead.

The two walk hand in hand as they make their way back to Lance’s room. They walk inside, and Lance collapses backwards onto his bed from exhaustion. Keith takes a seat next to him.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Keith asks, brushing Lance’s nicely trimmed bangs back.

“Today couldn’t have been more perfect,” he huffs out. He sits up and leans in to kiss Keith. Keith’s hand moves behind his head to cradle it. “Thank you for being by my side.”

“Always. You know I’m never letting you go.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not letting you go either.”

They sit for a moment in comfortable silence, Lance resting his head on Keith’s shoulder as he strokes his knuckles with his thumb. He looks to Keith who’s making that face he does when he wants to say something but is too afraid to say it.

“What are you thinking about?” Lance initiates.

Keith hesitates before he answers. “I wanna ask you something.”

Lance places his other hand on Keith’s so that both are holding it with care. “You can ask me anything.”

Keith stands from the bed, taking Lance’s hands with him, rubbing them nervously. Lance can see that he’s still working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. He knows Keith isn’t the best with words, but he’s willing to be patient. He’ll always be patient when it comes to Keith. Keith takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

“Lance, a year and a day ago today, you came into my life, and by no means was it a pleasant first encounter.” Lance chuckles, recounting the time he told Keith about how he stuffed his unconscious body into a closet. “A year and a day ago today, I was committed to a life of crime and lies, stealing off the streets just to get by. A year and a day ago today, I was so certain that all I wanted to do was start my life over alone, away from the world. But then I met you.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Lance. You’ve taught me what it’s like to be honest, to be caring, to lend a hand to those in need. You’ve taught me that it’s okay to let people into my life. You’ve taught me what it’s like to love.” Keith pauses and gets down on one knee. Lance gasps as he pulls out a velvet box, revealing a gorgeous ring with a blue sapphire in the center.

“I love you, Lance, more than I could ever express. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to continue to be by your side with every step you take as a prince. Will you marry me?”

Lance sees Keith’s eyes glisten with tears, and he feels his own eyes get glossy. He bends down to meet him on the ground and looks down at the ring. With one hand, he swiftly closes the top of the box. Keith’s face drops.

“Keith,” Lance begins, making quick to reassure him. “I love you, too. I love you so much, and I do wanna spend my life with you. But I’m still adjusting to my life as a prince. I’m still trying to catch up on the time I missed out with my family. I have a lot I need to do before I can settle down.” And it’s true. Even though he’s dedicated much of this year to reconnecting with his family, learning about their history as well as the kingdom’s, it just still hasn’t been enough to satisfy the eighteen years that he missed with them.

“But if you’ll wait for me, if you’ll continue to stay with me just like you’ve been doing, in a few years or so, I want this.” Lance takes Keith’s face in both of his hands. “You’re my future, Keith. My dream. I want you. Will you wait for me?”

Keith doesn’t hesitate before he gives his next answer. “Of course I will. You’re a prince worth waiting for.”

Lance pulls Keith’s face forward and kisses him passionately. Keith’s worth waiting for, too.

 

(Three years later, Keith proposes again. Lance says yes.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> You can find me on:  
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